«  A  R 


W  UCSB  LIBRARY 


TETE-D'OR 

A  PLAY  IN  THREE  ACTS 

BY 
PAUL  CLAUDEL 

TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENCH 

BY 
JOHN  STRONG  NEWBERRY 


NEW  HAVEN 
YALE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

LONDON  •  HUMPHREY  MILFORD  •  OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

MDCCCCXIX 


COPYRIGHT,  1919,  BY 
YALE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 


Dedication 


ODAY!    Having  felt,  like  the  touch  of  water  upon  the  head, 
The  desire  to  be  alone  and  to  weep  where  none  could  find  me, 
Laughing  I  walked  where  the  fragrance  of  the  riotous  garden 

spread 
Its  honeyed  snare,  and  left  the  flowers  and  the  trees  behind  me. 

And  from  behind  me,  borne  from  the  breathing  depths,  as  I  went, 

With  eyes  half-closed,  there  came  to  fall  upon  my  hair 

The  holy  benediction  of  things  most  excellent, 

And  seeds  and  shreds  of  down  were  softly  mingled  there. 

Behind  me  the  eternal  woods  uplifted  leafy  domes, 
Behind  me  banks  of  blossoms,  packed  to  the  brim  with  sweets, 
Towards  the  expectant  nose,  prepared  to  breathe  their  balms, 
Like  some  strong  nuptial  body  upraised  their  ardent  heats. 

Roses  and  yellow  asphodels  that  sturdy  stems  upbear, 

In  the  mellow  disarray  of  their  golden  panoply, 

Shone  forth  like  lamps  that  gleam  through  the  white  and  liquid  air 

When  but  a  single  diamond  adorns  the  sleeping  sky. 

For  like  one  who  stops  and  turns  and  listens  to  the  sea 
When  to  his  ear  is  borne  its  low,  mysterious  whisper, 
Above  the  shining  earth,  beaming  resplendently, 
I  saw  that  star,  First-Born  of  the  dawning  Future,  Vesper! 

O  only  child  of  the  King,  among  so  many  slaves! 
Pilgrim  unique  o'er  city  paths  seeking  the  distant  sea! 
Planet  of  morn,  re-born  in  evening's  dusky  caves! 
Star  anadyomene  in  the  depth  of  the  garden's  greenery! 

3 


T£TE-D'OR 

Mysteriously  o'er  the  hour  a  subtle  influence  reigns, 

Deepening  peace,  maintaining,  with  strange  and  mystic  art, 

The  secret  length  of  the  days  that  are  gone  where  only  the  honey 

remains 
Of  animate  life,  enhived  in  this  everlasting  heart. 

Feebly  the  dying  breeze  stirs  in  its  dark  retreat. 

0  joy  supreme,  O  love  beyond  what  words  can  say/ 
Over  this  sordid  world  that  has  so  enslaved  my  feet 
Endureth  the  ineffable  unfolding  of  the  day! 

In  such  an  hour  there  passes  in  laughing  ecstasy 

The  poet,  sprung  from  a  race  obscure,  who  never  shall  grow  old, 

His  golden  dream  fulfills  itself  in  the  twilight.    Silently 

He  is  merged  in  the  springtime  of  the  gods,  the  eternal  age  of  gold! 

Gazing  into  the  eye  of  the  world  with  an  eye  on  fire  to  see, 
As  one  gapes  for  the  juicy  plums  that  the  topmost  branches  bear, 
As,  'twixt  his  dusky  brides,  hard  Jacob  bowed  the  knee 
To  gain  from  the  hand  of  a  father  the  blessing  on  an  heir, 

1  live!    Come,  rain  and  storm!    I  shall  not  be  unmanned! 
Bearing  my  destiny,  aware  of  the  term  of  Fate's  delay, 
Laughing  I  walked  beneath  the  grim  and  terrifying  land 
Of  burning  constellations  that  cross  a  milky  way. 


Dramatis  Personae 


SIMON  AGNEL,  LATER  TETE-D'OR,  AFTERWARDS  THE  KING 

CEBES 

THE  KING 

FIRST  WATCHER 

SECOND  WATCHER 

THIRD  WATCHER 

FOURTH  WATCHER 

FIFTH  WATCHER 

THE  PRINCESS 

CASSIUS,  THE  MESSENGER 

THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE 

THE  GO-BETWEEN 

THE  HIGH  PREFECT 

THE  SCHOOLMASTER 

THE  BROTHER  OF  THE  KING 

THE  MAN  OUT  OF  OFFICE 

THE  CHIEF  OF  STAFF 

FIRST  CAPTAIN 

SECOND  CAPTAIN 

THIRD  CAPTAIN 

FOURTH  CAPTAIN 

THE  DESERTER 

THE  STANDARD-BEARER 

FIRST  SUBALTERN 

SECOND  SUBALTERN 

THE  MESSENGER 

THE  CENTURION 

THE  COMMANDER  OF  THE  CAVALRY 

THE  COMMANDER  OF  THE  SECOND  ARMY 

CITIZENS,  SOLDIERS,  OFFICERS 

Place 

ACT  I :  THE  OPEN  FIELDS. 

ACT  II:  A  HALL  IN  THE  KING'S  PALACE 

ACT  III :  A  WASTE  PLACE  IN  THE  CAUCASUS. 


Act  I 

The  open  fields  at  the  end  of  winter. 

Enter,  at  the  back,  SIMON  AGNEL,  dressed  like  a  peas- 
ant. He  bears  upon  his  shoulder  the  body  of  a  woman, 
and  carries  a  spade. 

Enter,  in  front,  CEBES,  walking  slowly. 

CEBES:     I  stand  here, 
Untaught,  irresolute, 
A  man  new-born  confronting  things  unknown. 
I  turn  my  face  towards  the  Future  and  the  lowering 

arch  of  the  sky.    My  soul  is  full  of  weariness ! 
I  know  nothing.     There  is  nothing  I  can  do.     What 

shall  I  say?    What  shall  I  do? 
How  shall  I  use  these  hands  that  hang  at  my  sides, 

these  feet 

That  bear  me  about  as  in  a  dream? 
Speech  is  but  a  noise  and  books  are  only  paper. 
There  is  no  one  here  but  myself.     And  all  that  is 

about  me, 

The  foggy  air,  the  rich  fields, 
The  trees,  the  low-lying  clouds 
Seem  to  speak  to  me,  soundlessly,  to  ask  inarticulate 

questions. 
The  ploughman 
Turns  homeward  with  his  plough.     I  hear  its  slow 

creaking. 
It  is  the  time  when  women  bring  water  from  the  wells. 


TfiTE-D'OR 

It  is  night. — What  am  I? 

What  am  I  doing?     For  what  do  I  wait? 

And  I  answer,  "I  do  not  know!" 

And  in  my  heart  there  is  a  wild  desire 

To  weep  or  to  cry  aloud 

Or  to  laugh  or  leap  in  the  air  and  wave  my  arms! 

"Who  am  I?" 

There  are  still  some  patches  of  snow.     I  hold  in  my 

hand  a  sprig  of  pussy-willow. 
For  March  is  like  a  woman  blowing  a  fire  of  green 

wood. 

— That  the  Summer 
And  the  dreadful  day  under  the  glare  of  the  sun  may  be 

forgotten, 

0  Nature, 

Here  I  offer  myself  to  you ! 

1  know  so  little ! 

Look  at  me !    There  is  something  that  I  need. 
But  what  it  is  I  do  not  know  and  I  could  cry  forever 
Loud  and  low  like  a  child  that  one  hears  in  the  dis- 
tance, like  children  left  alone  beside  the  glowing 
embers ! 

O  lowering  sky!    Trees,  earth,  darkness,  night  of  rain  I 
Look  upon  me !    Grant  my  prayer ! 

(He  sees  SIMON. 
Who  is  that? 

(He  approaches  him. 

Are  you  digging  a  drain?    It  is  getting  late. 
SIMON  (straightening  his  back]  :     Who  is  there?     What 

do  you  want? 

CEBES  :     What  are  you  doing  there  ? 
SIMON  :     Does  this  field  belong  to  you  ? 
CEBES:     It  is  my  father's. 

8 


_____ ACT  I 

SIMON:     Suffer  me  to  dig  this  hole  in  it. 

CEBES  (seeing  the  body)  :     What  is  that? 

SIMON  (continuing  to  dig)  :     The  woman  who  was  with 

me. 
CEBES:     Who  is  she?     Oh,  I  know  her!     And  is  she 

dead! 

SIMON  :     I  did  not  cause  her  death. 
CEBES:     Oh!    Oh!    It  is  she!    It  is  she! 

And  is  it  thus  that  I  find  you !    Cold  and  wet ! 

You  that  were  kind  to  all,  light-hearted,  vital ! 
SIMON  :     Cebes ! 

CEBES:     What?    You  know  me? 

SIMON:     What   do   they   call   that   slate-roofed   belfry, 
Cebes? 

What  place  is  this? 
CEBES  :     Agnel !     Simon  Agnel ! 
SIMON  :     Are  any  of  my  family  still  here  ? 
CEBES:     No.    The  house  has  been  sold. 
SIMON:     Is  my  father  alive? 
CEBES:     He  is  dead,  and  your  mother  also. 

The  others  have  gone  away. 
SIMON  :     Is  it  so ! 

CEBES:     Where  have  you  been,  unhappy  man?     Why 
did  you  go  ? 

And  what  of  that  woman  lying  there? 
SIMON:     Why?     Who  knows? 

A  wild  and  adventurous  spirit,  shame, 

A  desire  to  reach  the  end  of  the  road,  to  follow  the 
lure  of  the  plain  that  stretches  towards  the  horizon, 

And  I  went  out  from  the  house  and  left  the  old  familiar 
faces. 

Dead! 
CEBES:     Where  did  you  go? 


T£TE-D'OR 

SIMON:     I  did  not  know  that  she  loved  me. 

One  day  I  caught  her  by  the  throat,  crushing  her  body 

against  the  side  of  the  barn, 
For  I  was  a  violent  man.    She  came  to  join  me. 
I  have  wandered, 

I  have  dreamed  many  dreams,  I  have  known 
Men  and  the  things  that  at  present  exist. 
I  have  seen  strange  roads,   strange  cultures,   strange 
cities.     One  leaves  them  behind  and  they  are  gone. 
And  the  sea  that  is  very  far  away  and  further  than  the 

sea. 
And  as  I  was  returning,  bringing  back  the  branch  of 

a  pine  .  .  . 

CEBES:     It  was  there  that  she  found  you? 
SIMON  :     Together 

By  many  mountains  and  rivers  we  wandered  seeking 

the  South  and  that  other  ocean. 
Then  we  returned  to  this  place. 
CEBES:     Where  did  you  say? 
SIMON:     There,  to  that  hut.     I  tried  to  light  a  fire  but 

.  it  was  too  wet. 
— I  think  it  is  deep  enough  now. 

(He  climbs  out  of  the  hole. 

CEBES:     O  that  she  should  be  lying  there  like  this! 
SIMON  :     O  this  place !    This  place ! 

Turning  hence  my  unworthy  eyes  what  have  I  sought 
among  multitudes  of  men  but  the  testimony  of  my 
own  soul ! 
And  it  was  here  that,  girding  up  its  loins,  it  came  to 

find  me ! 

Standing  in  the  red  of  the  dawn,  the  warmth  of  the 
rising  sun  on  our  hair, 

10 


ACT  I 

We  had  re-united  our  souls  through  our  lips,  and  with 

artless  arms  she  clasped  me  to  her  breast ! 
And  I  brought  her  here  that  this  place  whence  I  had 

set  out  might  mock  me !     There  she  lies  fallen  at 

my  feet! 
My  curse  on  this  country !     A  murrain  on  the  cattle ! 

May  the  pigs  die  of  plague! 
Ah!  Ah!    This  place!    O  soil  of  sticky  clay ! 
I  am  worthless !     What  could  I  do !     What  was  the 

use !    Ah,  why  should  I  try  to  be 
Different  from  what  I  am?    And  it  is  here 
That  alone  and  with  my  feet  in  the  earth  I  raise  my 

bitter  cry, 
While  the  wind  masks  my  face  with  rain ! 

0  woman,  ever  faithful 

Who  followed  me,  uncomplaining 
Like  a  fairy  in  thrall,  like  a  queen 
Who  wraps  her  bleeding  feet  in  tatters  of  cloth  of 
gold! 

1  cried  to  her,  "Come,  down  into  the  mud!" 
Horror  incarnate,  shame,  infamy  teeming  with  desires, 

this  is  the  knowledge  I  have  gained  at  the  last ! 
Listen!     When  she  was  dying  she  pressed  my  hand 

against  her  cheek, 

And  kissed  me,  keeping  her  eyes  on  mine, 
And  she  said  that  she  could  sing  me  prophecies 
Like  an  old  ship  that  has  come  to  the  end  of  the  world. 
And  at  the  last  when  she  was  dying  she  tried  to  speak, 
Tears  were  in  her  eyes!     Who  knows  what  she  saw, 

what  she  regretted! 
CEBES  :     Alone  and  so  pale ! 

SIMON  :     She  looked  at  me  and  wept  and  kissed  my  hands 
with  burning  lips! 

ii 


TfrTE-D'OR 

"Are  you  in  pain?"  I  said. 

She  shook  her  head. 

She  looked  at  me  and  I  do  not  know  what  she  wished 

to  say.     Who  can  understand  a  woman? 
Into  the  grave  with  you! 

(He  lifts  the  body. 
CEDES:     May  I  help  you? 
SIMON  :     Yes.    I  shall  be  glad  of  your  help.    It  shall  not 

be  forgotten. 
I  will  take  her  shoulders,  you  take  her  feet. 

( They  take  up  the  body. 
Not  like  that!     Let  her  sleep  face  downward. 

( They  lower  her  face  downward,  into  the  grave. 
CEBES:     May  she  sleep  well! 

SIMON  :     There !    Go !    Enter,  enter  into  the  raw  earth  I 
Lie  at  your  ease,  hearing  nothing,  seeing  nothing, 
your  mouth  pressing  against  the  clay, 
As  in  the  days  when  prone  upon  our  pillows  we  rushed 

towards  sleep ! 

And  now  I  shall  load  a  burden  of  earth  on  your  back! 
(He  throws  the  earth  into  the  grave.     When 

it  is  full  he  walks  on  it,  stamping  it  down. 
Fill  it  up!     Room  must  be  found  for  the  earth  whose 

place  you  have  taken. 
— So  there  are  none  of  my  family  left? 
CEBES:     Not  one.    The  house  is  closed.    The  fields  lie 
fallow. 

(Silence. 

Her  father  is  still  alive. 
SIMON:     Would  you   have  me   ask  him   for   a   night's 

lodging? 
CEBES:     He  is  old.    He  has  known  much  sorrow. 

12 


ACT  I 

He  lives  alone,  an  object  of  charity,  despised  by  every- 
one. 

He  is  bent  like  a  scythe.     His  hands  hang  down  below 
his  knees.     He  has  never  been  the  same  since  his 
daughter  went  away. 
SIMON  :     I  shall  come  to  this  place  no  more. 

Can  you  see  where  the  grave  was? 
CEBES:     There  is  not  a  sign  of  it.     How  it  rains! 
SIMON  :     O  gentle  Giver  of  Knowledge, 

Twofold  teacher  who  while  you  spoke  held  your  face 

before  me  like  a  book, 

Here  take  your  rest,  deeper  than  the  buried  grain ! 
Here,  where  you  cannot  hear  the  noise  of  the  roads  or 

the  fields,  the  sounds  of  ploughing  and  sowing, 
Remembered  only  by  me,  in  a  place  that  no  one  knows, 
And  let  not  even  this  spade  nor  your  staff  like  the 

broken  oar  of  a  sailor 
Remain  to  mark  your  grave ! 

(He  throws  away  the  spade. 
And  now  let  us  go ! 
CEBES:     May  I  go  with  you? 
SIMON  :     Come. 

You  do  not  talk,  comrade. 

(They  walk  along  together. 
CEBES:     Oh,  I  am  sad!    I  am  exceedingly  sad! 
SIMON  :     Death ! 
Thoughts, 

Actions  that  sleep,  like  new-born  babes 
Drawing  up  their  knees  to  their  bellies  reassume 
The  shape  of  the  maternal  mold. 
One  ceases  to  live. 

Old  age  obscures  the  memory.    The  sick  man 
Wakes  all  alone  and  while  the  rain  drives  against  the 

13 


T£TE-D'OR 

windows,   he   hears   the   sound   of   a    falling   silver 
spoon. 

And  the  smile  has  mercifully  been  given  to  the  old. 
CEBES:     She  is  dead. 

SIMON:     A  woman  has  withdrawn  her  hand  from  mine, 
mysteriously  veiling  her  eyes. 

And  I,  her  mate,  am  left  alone. 

To  what  pale  region  of  the  air  shall  I  raise  my  yearn- 
ing mouth? 

What  shall  I  repeat  in  my  silence,  "I  shall  find  strength, 
I  shall  make  the  effort.  .  .  ." 

Ah,  where  shall  I  look?  Where  shall  I  go?  The 
skies  are  like  iron  and  I  remain  here,  the  woman's 
legacy,  full  of  vague  menaces  and  anguished  cries. 

— What  is  there  left  in  life?  I  have  travelled.  I  have 
seen  the  world.  O  worthless  calendar  of  petty  days ! 

Though  the  members  of  my  body 

Should  bristle  as  thick  as  fir  saplings  upon  a  mountain 
side, 

For  what  would  I  employ  that  multitude  ? 

The  woman  I  loved  is  no  more ! 

And  yet  .  .  .  When  she  was  sleeping  yesterday,  I  went 
out 

Knowing  that  the  next  day  I  should  be  alone. 

It  was  night  and  my  heart  was  heavier  than  a  sus- 
pended stone. 

But,  as  I  walked  to  and  fro,  slowly  there  came  to  me 

A  sense  of  the  living  force  within  my  soul,  the  vital 
essence, 

That  does  not  enter  into  marriage,  nor  pass  through 
the  gates  of  birth, 

The  secret  purpose  of  my  being. 

14 


ACT  I     ___^ 

CEBES:     O  that  I  also  might  .  .  . 

But  no  one  has  ever  bothered  about  me. 
SIMON:     What  did  you  say? 
CEBES:     I  could  tell  you  .  .  . 

I  could  lament  in  such  a  fashion  that  you  would  com- 
prehend.  .   .  . 

SIMON:     Some  woman  already  .  .  .    ? 
CEBES:     No. 
SIMON:     Indeed  the  desire 

For  this  being  who  has  the  face  of  a  child 

Is  strange.     I  do  not  believe  in  their  laughter. 

Age  makes  them  fat  like  fowls. 

But  to  slip  away  thus  like  a  handful  of  sand  that  runs 

through  the  fingers  .   .  . 
Pah!    These  fancies! 
Perhaps  some  day  you  will  understand. 

( They  come  to  the  road. 
CEBES:     Who  is  that?     (aside}  It  is  her  father. 

(An    old    man,    bent    almost    double,    enters, 
trundling    a    wheelbarrow    on    which    is    a 
basket  and  a  hoe. 
SIMON  (aside)  :     Speak  to  him. 
CEBES  (to  the  peasant)  :     Good  evening. 

(THE  PEASANT  stops  and  sets  down  the  wheel- 
barrow. 

(Silence. 

How  are  things  going  to-day? 

THE  PEASANT  :  Eh,  I  don't  know.  I  think  it  can't  be 
more  than  five  o'clock.  The  days  don't  get  much 
longer. 

SIMON  (shouting  in  his  ear)  :  And  how  is  your  daugh- 
ter? 

15 


T£TE-D'OR 

THE  PEASANT  :     I  don't  know.    She  is  not  with  me  any 

more. 

SIMON:     Perhaps  she  is  better  off  than  you  are,  eh? 
THE  PEASANT  :     Ah !    She  might  help  me  out  a  bit  then. 

'Tis  a  bad  business,  surely! 
Good-night  to  you,  masters. 

(He   goes    out.      They    remain    silent   for    a 

moment. 

CEBES  (pointing  up  the  road]  :     That  way  lies  the  vil- 
lage. 

You  must  spend  the  night  with  me. 
SIMON:     No,  my  road  lies  yonder. 

There  is  now  no  place  to  receive  me.    I  will  not  lodge 

in  the  house  of  another. 
I  have  no  other  wealth  than  these  old  clothes.     But  I 

shall  stretch  myself  on  a  stone  and  be  content. 
I  myself  am  my  table  and  my  bed. 
I  shall  not  die,  but  live ! 
I  shall  not  die,  but  live ! 
I  wish  not  to  die,  but  to  live ! 
For  I  am  not  alone. 
CEBES:     Who  is  with  you? 
SIMON  :     The  voice  of  my  living  soul ! 

I  have  heard  men  mourn  their  misfortunes,  but  what 

misfortune  can  there  be? 
None. 

— It  grows  dark. 
CEBES:     It  is  night. 
SIMON:     Watch  the  road  and  speak  more  softly. 

The  dry  brambles  shiver;  the  branches  creak  or  swr) 
without  a  sound ;  the  brooks  gurgle  among  the  reed*. 
We  stand  in  the  midst  of  space,  with  all  about  us  me 
blackness, 

16 


ACT  I 

The  melancholy  of  Earth. 
We  pass  along  the  road 

And  we  alone  exhale  the  warm  breath  of  living  beings. 
Haha  !     My  nerves  are  unstrung. 
You  there  .   .   .   Cebes  .  .   .   Do  you  hear  me? 
CEBES  :     Yes. 
SIMON:     Speak  to  me.     Had  you  not  something  to  tell 

me? 

CEBES:     I  want  .  .  . 
SIMON  :     What  do  you  want  ? 
CEBES  :     Nothing  1 

Only  a  room  when  it  snows  and  that  no  one  should 

know  where  I  am ! 
SIMON:     What  did  you  say? 
CEBES:     I  am  only  a  boy.     There  has  been  no  one  to 

help  me! 

I  have  had  to  endure  much  suffering. 
I  am  plagued  with  bitter  fancies.     I  shrink  from  the 

light  of  the  sun. 

Why  should  you  force  me  to  speak  only  to  mock  at  me  ? 
SIMON:     I  will  take  you  by  the  hair  of  your  head  and 

shake  you. 

Come,  in  whom  will  you  confide  if  not 
In  the  man  who  at  this  very  moment 
Walks  at  your  side  through  the  blackness  of  night. 
I  tell  you  that  you  are  a  man  and  not  a  child,  like  some 

pale  seedling  pushing  its  way  through  the  mould. 
I  am  only  a  little  older  than  you, 
Yet  I  have  sworn 
To  hold  myself  erect! 

XG  never  yield,  to  have  no  fear,  and  to  accomplish 
what  I  undertake ! 


TfiTE-D'OR 

Speak!    Take  my  arm 

For  the  night  is  so  dark  one  can  scarcely  see. 
CEBES  :     Ah,  well !    I  am  very  wretched !    O  that  I  might 

set  forth  clearly  things  that  are  obscure ! 
Where  shall  I  begin? 
To  express  the  weariness  that  has  no  beginning,  but 

has  become  a  part  of  one's  consciousness  like  the 

familiar  things  of  every  day? 
Thus  might  the  young  man  speak 
Who   like    an    emperor   dethroned,    his    head   thrust 

through  a  sack,  sits  motionless  with  haggard  eyes, 
While  the  wind  makes  free  with  his  hair  like  a  wanton 

trull, 

Vacantly  contemplating  the  dawn  of  another  day 
Full  of  little  whisperings  like  a  dead  tree; 
The  multitude  of  foolish  men  who  interrogate  each 

other,  fight,  talk,  and  cast  their  eyes  this  way  and 

that, 
And  then,  turning  towards  us  the  hairy  side  of  the  head, 

disappear  like  the  Manes; 
The  catastrophes  and  the  sombre  passions; 
The  clouds  that  cover  the  hills  with  shadows ;  the  cries 

of  beasts,  the  hum  of  the  villages,  the  clatter  of  the 

highways ; 
The  wood,  and  the  chant  of  the  coursing  wind;  the 

carts  that  are  charged  with  sheaves  and  flowers; 
And  the  Victories  that  pass  their  appointed  way  like 

harvesters,  with  swarthy  cheeks, 
Veiled  and  bearing  a  drum  on  a  golden  thigh. 
SIMON:     Finish.    What  would  he  say? 
CEBES  :     Nothing.    Are  there  not  men  whose  eyes 
Melt  like  the  broken  medlar  that  scatters  abroad  its 

pips, 

18 


ACT  I 

And  women  with  cancer  at  work  in  their  bodies,  like 
the  amadou  in  the  beech? 

And  monstrous  births,  men  having  the  muzzles  of 
oxen? 

And  children  violated  and  murdered  by  their  fathers, 

And  old  men  whose  children  grudgingly  count  the  days 
that  still  are  left  them  ? 

All  the  diseases  spy  upon  us,  ulcer  and  abscess,  epilepsy 
and  shaking  palsy  and  at  the  last,  comes  gout  and 
the  gravel  that  clogs  urination. 

Phthisis  lights  its  fire;  the  pudenda  grow  mouldy  like 
grapes;  and  the  bag  of  the  belly 

Breaks  and  empties  out  entrails  and  excrements. 

Is  it  not  horrible  ?    But  our  life, 

Spreading  a  feast,  stuffs  itself  with  a  banquet  of  crawl- 
ing maggots 

Till,  like  a  dog  who  vomits  worms  and  morsels  of  meat, 

The  loaded  belly  revolts  and  disgorges  it  all  on  the 
table ! 

I  long  for  happiness ! 

But  I  am  like  a  man  beneath  the  earth  in  a  cell  no  sound 
can  enter. 

Who  will  open  the  door?    Who  will  descend  into  the 
blackness  of  my  dungeon,  bearing  in  his  hand  the 
yellow  flame? 
SIMON  :     I  also  lie  in  that  secret  place. 

I  shall  arise  and  burst  open  the  door  and  I  shall  ap- 
pear before  men! 

Ah!    Ah! 

CEBES:     What  is  it? 
SIMON:     Do  not  speak!    Ah! 

(He  stops. 

19 


TfiTE-D'OR 

CEBES:     What  ails  you?     Why  do  you  snuff  the  air? 

What  do  you  smell? 
SIMON:     The  air  and  the  earth.    Ah! 

O  the  Spring  that  renews  the  year  and  the  strong  love 

that  triumphs  over  virginity! 

0  the  ferment  of  life  when  the  Springtime  prepares  its 
nuptials !     There  is  not  a  thing  that  grows 

But  feels  the  divine  delirium  entering  like  a  creator, 

producing  the  flower  and  the  seed. 
CEBES  :     The  wind  is  warm. 
SIMON:     I  have  in  my  mouth  the  bitter  savor  of  buds! 

The  block 
Of  my  body 

Like  a  clod  of  frozen  earth 

Thaws!      O  juice   of   life!      Force   and   acquisition! 
Strength  and  the  rising  sap ! 

1  will  open  wide  my  jaws  and  I  will  raise  my  arms  and 

hold  them  extended  like  branches ! 
But  come ! 
,CEBES:     Where  are  you  taking  me?    Why  have  we  left 

the  road? 
SIMON:     Why  do  we  need  a  road?     I  know  my  way. 

Follow  me ! 
O  Cebes  in  this  you  were  right  that  not  to  an  older  man 

nor  to  any  one  of  an  age  unlike  your  own  did  you 

address  yourself  so  obscurely, 
For  they  could  not  answer  you,  not  knowing  what  you 

ask. 

But  if  one  can  tell  the  vintage  of  a  wine  by  its  taste 
Why  should  we  not  believe  that  each  generation  of  men 
Springing  from  the  maternal  furrow  in  its  season 
Keeps  a  common  secret,  a  changeless  knot  in  the  hidden 

texture  of  its  wood? 

20 


ACT  I 

(Or  rather  I  think  of  a  carpet  whose  maker  disposes 

the  colors  one  after  the  other) 
— And  a  baby  is  weaned  at  eleven  months,   but  the 

weaning  of  the  spirit  is  slower. 
And  till  he  learns  to  forage  for  himself  (the  amount 

being  equal  to  the  expenditure)    the  breast  is  not 

taken  away,  the  communication  with  the  source. 
— So  if  you  put  your  ear  against  my  heart —  .  .  .  But 

I  myself  am  full  of  sorrow. 
CEBES  :     We  are  going  further  and  further. 
SIMON:     As  for  me,  I  have  never  tried  to  fathom 
What  lay  in  the  heart  of  anyone,  young  or  old. 
But  a  tree  has  been  my  father  and  my  preceptor. 
For  often  when  I  was  a  child 
A  black  and  bitter  humor  overwhelmed  me, 
Making  all  company  hateful,  the  air  breathed  by  others 

a  poison, 
So  that  I  fled  into  solitude  there  to  obscurely  nourish 

this  grief  that  I  felt  unfolding  itself  within  me. 
And  there  I  met  this  tree, 

Like  some  primordial  man,  surviving  antiquity, 
And  I  embraced  it,  clasping  its  trunk  in  my  arms. 
For  it  was  there  before  I  was  born  and  will  be  there 

when  we  are  here  no  longer, 

And  the  measure  of  its  time  is  not  the  same  as  ours. 
How  many  an  afternoon  I  have  passed  beneath  its 

shadow,  having  quieted  the  clamor  of  my  thoughts. 
CEBES:     And  what  has  it  taught  you? 
SIMON  :     Now,  in  this  hour  of  anguish !    Now  I  must  find 

it  again! 

( They  come  to  the  foot  of  a  huge  tree. 
O  tree,  receive  me  again!    Alone  I  left  the  protection 

21 


TETE-D'OR 

of  your  branches.    And  now  it  is  alone  that  I  return, 
O  immovable  father! 

Take  me  once  more  beneath  your  shadow,  O  son  of 
the  Earth!  O  wood,  in  this  hour  of  sorrow!  O 
murmuring  branches,  impart  to  me 

That  message  which  I  am  and  of  which  I  feel  within 
me  the  terrible  striving. 

For  you  yourself  are  only  a  ceaseless  striving,  the  un- 
wearied drawing  of  your  body  out  of  inanimate 
matter. 

How  you  suck  the  earth,  old  tree, 

Thrusting  down,  stretching  out  in  every  direction  your 
strong  and  subtile  roots!  And  the  sky,  how  you 
cling  to  it!  How  your  whole  being  breathes  it  in 
through  one  great  leaf,  Form  of  Flame! 

The  inexhaustible  earth  in  the  grasp  of  all  the  roots  of 
your  being 

And  the  infinite  sky,  with  the  sun,  with  the  stars  in 
their  constellations, 

Of  which  you  lay  hold  with  that  mouth  made  of  all 
your  arms,  with  the  cluster  of  your  branches,  with 
the  clutch  of  all  there  is  in  you  that  breathes. 

All  the  earth  and  all  the  sky,  these  are  what  you  re- 
quire that  you  may  hold  yourself  erect ! 

Let  me  also  hold  myself  erect !  Let  me  not  lose  my 
soul !  That  essential  sap,  that  innermost  secretion 
of  my  ego,  that  effervescence 

Which  constitutes  my  true  self,  oh  let  me  not  squander 
that  to  make  a  useless  tuft  of  leaves  and  flowers  I 
Let  me  grow  in  my  unity!  Let  me  remain  unique 
and  erect! 

But  it  was  not  to  hear  your  murmuring  that  I  came, 

22 


ACT  I 

O  branches  that  now  are  bare  mid  the  air  opaque  and 

nebulous ! 

But  it  is  you  that  I  would  question,  deep-reaching  roots 
and  that  primal  depth  of  the  earth  where  you  are 
nourished. 

(He  stands   beneath   the   tree. — Pause   of  in- 
definite duration. 
SIMON  (sighing,  like  one  awakening  from  a  dream}  :    Let 

us  go. 
CEBES  :     O  Simon,  you  will  not  leave  me  so ! 

Have  you  learned  nothing  then,  under  that  tree  of 

knowledge  ? 

SIMON  :     Nothing  that  I  can  tell  you. 
CEBES  :     Well,  the  thing  that  you  cannot  tell,  that  is  what 

I  demand. 
Oh,  if  indeed 

Some  law  is  graven  on  your  heart,  if  some  command- 
ment 

And  edict  of  Nature 

Pushes  you  as  from  its  knee  into  the  midst  of  us,  miser- 
able wretches  .  .  . 

(He  kneels  before  him. 
SIMON:     What  do  you  want? 
CEBES  :     Do  not  forget  me ! 
SIMON:     Why  do  you  wish  to  make  me  speak? 

Leave  me,  for  my  spirit  smokes  and  boils,  and  I  am 

shaken  through  all  my  being! 
CEBES  :     I  am  the  first  to  summon  you. 
SIMON:     What  do  you  seek? 

CEBES:     Your  hands!     Let  me  take  them!     Do  not  re- 
fuse me ! 

SIMON  :     Ah !    ah ! 
CEBES:     What  is  it? 

23 


TfiTE-D'OR  

SIMON:     A  spirit  has  breathed  upon  me  and  I  vibrate 

like  a  post. 
— Cebes,  a  force  has  been  given  to  me,  stark,  savage  1 

It  is  the  fury  of  the  male.    There  is  no  woman  in  me. 
CEBES  :     I  implore  you. 
SIMON:     Do  not  hope  to  know  more  than  I  wish  to  tell 

you. 
CEBES  :     Listen  to  me !     I  understand  and  I  will  not  let 

you  go  !    Was  I  not  there  ? 
Surely  to-day  I  must  ask  and  you  must  answer  I 
You  shall  not  go  before 

You  have  given  me  the  portion  that  is  due  me. 
Reply  or  I  will  throw  myself  upon  you  and  constrain 

you  by  force! 
I  implore  you ! 
You  have  robbed  me  of  the  light  of  my  eyes !     You 

have  carried  away  my  hope  and  my  joy! 
You  have  taken  from  me  the  woman  I  love  and  brought 

her  to  her  death !     So  now  it  is  to  you  that  I  make 

my  cry! 

I  charge  you  by  the  woman  we  both  have  loved, 
And  by  the  pity,  greater  than  that  of  a  father  for  his 

child, 
Which  you  must  feel  for  me  who  am  the  image  of 

yourself. 
Do  not  leave  me  to  languish  in  the  depths  in  which  I 

lie! 

O  father,  O  father,  for  am  I  not  now  your  child, 
By  all  that  I  lack,  I  beseech  you ! 
See,  I  will  not  let  go  your  hands, 
And  as  did  that  woman  when  she  died,  I  will  hold  them 

close  against  my  cheek,  thus, 
Until  you  have  answered  me ! 

24 


ACT  I 

SIMON  :     I  could  stay  here  the  whole  night  through,  not 

stirring  from  this  place, 
And  I  would  not  say  a  word  and  those  who  passed 

would  not  see  me. 

I  am  here  alone  and  the  multitude  of  men  is  about  me 
on  every  hand,  in  the  fields  or  in  the  houses  that 
they  have  made,  beside  the  lamps  that  they  have 
lighted. 

And  standing  at  this  cross-road  I  will  raise  my  hand, 
And  I  will  not  be  afraid  and  I  will  make  a  vow  repeat- 
ing the  words  that  have  been  taught  me. 

(He  raises  his  hand, 

CEBES  :     O  Simon,  I  will  not  let  go  of  your  other  hand. 
SIMON  :     Know  that  a  right  has  been  given  to  me !    Know 

that  a  force  has  been  given  to  me ! 
Who  are  you  and  what  do  you  want? 
CEBES  :     One  who  appeals  to  you  for  help,  O  young  elder 

brother ! 

SIMON:  In  whom  do  you  put  your  trust!  For  a  ter- 
rible thing  has  been  shown  to  me,  to  me  who  was 
but  a  child. 

And  I  am  weak  and  in  pain. 
Take  my  other  hand  also,  brother! 

(He  gives  him  his  right  hand. 

In  the  midst  of  this  vast  universe  we  are  like  two  little 
children  who  wander  in  the  dark.     Yet  there  is  a 
force  in  me,  and  I  pity  you ! 
CEBES:     Save  me! 
SIMON:     Love  me!     Understand  me!     Swear  that  you 

will  be  loyal  and  put  yourself  wholly  in  my  hands. 
This  is  a  serious  matter.     Do  not  decide  it  too  soon. 
CEBES  :     I  am  ready  to  do  whatever  you  ask. 
SIMON  :     What  you  will  do  for  me  I  will  also  do  for  you. 

25 


TfiTE-D'OR 

Will  you  love  me  ?    You  ask  me  for  words 
And  I  will  surrender  to  you  my  sovereign  self. 
CEBES:     What  did  you  say? 

SIMON  :     You  hold  between  your  hands  a  living  man. 
I  live  and  I  am  here  with  the  mystery  of  my  soul. 
O  death,  O  night,  there  are  here  two  guilty  persons, 

who  have  found  each  other. 
You  lay  your  hand  on  my  blouse  and  that  which  you 

touch  is  still  yourself. 
It  is  also  I  and  I  am  only  a  man ! 

Understand  me !     With  your  hands  lay  hold  upon  this 
sorrow !     The  irresolute  man  bereft  of  knowledge  1 
How  fine  a  thing  it  is  that  these  lips  should  say  "I." 
Yet  my  eyes,  those  consuls  that  should  always  be  vigi- 
lant, 
Close,  and  he  who  is  standing  must  take  good  heed  lest 

he  fall. 

All  things  change.     I  must  be  strong  and  resist  I     I 
have  been  a  wandering  fire,  I  must  rise  like  a  rooted 
flame! 
Do  not  leave  me  alone !    Trust  in  me !    Tell  me  I  have 

the  power! 
CEBES  :     Hope ! 
SIMON:     Yes,  I  can  do  it. 
CEBES:     Here  I,  the  first,  salute  you! 
SIMON:     You  have  knelt  before  me,  alas! 

Yet  honor  me,  since  thus  we  have  encountered,  since 

we  are  here  together. 
Stay,  and  that  I  may  serve  you  as  an  altar, 
Draw  near  and  lay  your  head  against  my  side. 
CEBES  :     I  give  you  my  prayer  and  my  salutation. 
SIMON:     O  pride!  you  embrace  me  then! 

26 


ACT  I 

CEBES:     Ah! 

What  is  this  that  drips  on  my  head ! 
SIMON:     It  is  my  blood;  thus  man,  though  he  has  no 

breasts,  knows  how  to  pour  forth  his  milk  1 
And  now,  O  Cebes, 

You  are  like  a  servant  who  before  he  departs 
.Clasps  to  his  breast  the  cross, 
But  that  crucified  thing  with  its  lips  of  granite  draws 

towards  heaven  a  band  of  briars, 
And  a  robin  is  singing  on  its  ruined  shoulder. 
Receive  my  blood  upon  you!     Oh,  I  will  stab  myself 
to  the  heart  that  my  blood  may  burst  forth  like  a 
fountain,  as  you  drive  in  the  bung  of  a  cask  with  a 
resolute  blow! 

It  is  my  blood.  Thus  do  we  greet  each  other,  you  and 
I,  we  who  walk  through  the  shades  with  warm  blood 
in  our  veins. 

Like  two  brothers  who,   after  death,    recognise   one 
another  in  the  eternal  night,  although  they  cannot 
see 
And  throw  themselves  into  each  others'  arms,  the  tears 

streaming  down  their  cheeks. 
CEBES:     I  salute  you,  O  King! 
I  hold  you  in  my  arms,  Majesty! 

And  I  have  tasted  of  your  blood,  like  the  first  wine 
trod  from  the  wine-press! 

(He  rises. 
SIMON  :     Farewell ! 
CEBES  :     Farewell ! 

(He  goes  out. 

SIMON  :     And  whom  have  I  myself?    And  whom  have  I  ? 
(He  paces  to  and  fro,  for  a  little,  with  a  hesi- 
tating step. 

27 


TfiTE-D'OR 

Two  trees  and  all  the  night  behind! 

The  mist  parts  and  in  places  the  stars  appear! 

0  equilibrium  of  things  in  the  night !     O  energy  that 
acts    with   unconquerable    power,    according   to    its 
nature ! 

1  also  will  do  my  work.     Creeping  beneath  it  I  will 
cause  the  great  stone  to  tremble ! 

And  with  a  blow  I  will  take  the  burden  upon  me,  as  a 
butcher  takes  on  his  back  a  side  of  beef! 

Oh,  to  act !    To  act !    To  act  I    Who  will  give  me  the 
strength  to  act! 

Ah!   ah! 

(He  throws  himself  flat  on  the  ground. 

0  night,  my  mother ! 

Crush  me  or  close  my  eyes  with  earth! 

Mother,  why  have  you  cleft  through  the  midst  the  skin 

of  my  eyelid!     Mother,  I  am  alone!     Mother,  why 

do  you  force  me  to  live ! 
Far  better  it  would  be  for  me  if  to-morrow  the  dewy 

earth  in  the  East  should  not  be  reddened  by  the 

dawn !    O  night,  you  seem  very  beautiful ! 

1  cannot  do  it !     Comfort  me,  your  child ! 

And  you,  O  Earth,  look  how  I  lie  on  your  breast! 
O  sheltering  night,  earth!  earth! 

(He  faints. 


28 


Act  II 

A  hall  in  the  KING'S  palace,  with  high  windows  at  the 
back. 

Night.  CEBES,  sick,  lying  upon  a  bed.  A  little  lamp 
is  placed  on  the  floor.  Here  and  there  men,  stretched 
out  asleep,  snoring. 

Pantomime — Enter,  as  if  half-crazed,  the 
KING,  barefoot,  his  clothes  in  disorder.  He 
runs  hither  and  thither  about  the  hall  in  great 
agitation. 

CEBES    (not   seeing    the   KING)  :     They    are    all 
asleep. 
The  lamp  sputters  and  smokes. 

(He  painfully  stretches  himself  on  his  back. 
THE  KING  (groaning,  in  a  low  voice]  :     Ah! 

(Pause. 

CEBES  (lowering  his  voice)  :     Two,  four, 
Six,  eight,  twelve, 
Fourteen, 

Sixteen,  eighteen,  thirty-six, 
Seventy-two,  a  hundred  and  forty-four.     I  wish  that 

I  could  sleep,  too. 
THE  KING:     Ah! 

CEBES  :     I  am  thirsty.    I  would  like  a  drink ! 
But  I  will  not  drink. 

29 


I  am  sick!  The  night  is  long.  If  only  I  could  sleep 
a  little! 

(He  closes  his  eyes. 
THE  KING:     Ah! 
CEBES:     Who  is  sighing?    Is  anyone  there? 

(He  turns  his  head  and  sees  the  KING. 

(Silence. 
THE  KING:     Ah! 

(He  catches  sight  of  CEBES. 
Can't  you  sleep,  my  child? 
CEBES:     I  cannot  sleep. 
THE  KING:     Are  you  thirsty?     Would  you  like  me  to 

get  you  a  drink? 

CEBES:     Pardon  me,  Sire.     I  shall  not  drink  till  he  re- 
turns. 
THE  KING:     Sire!    Is  there  still  such  a  title?    Do  not 

call  me  Sire,  my  child! 
They  have  left  us  all  alone,  my  daughter  and  me,  and 

everyone  has  fled,  for  the  enemy  is  at  hand. 
They  did  not  trouble  themselves  much  about  me. 
The  Prime  Minister  did  it  all.     He  explained  to  me 
how  matters  stood.    He  was  always  making  me  late 
to  dinner.     I  have  a  bad  digestion;  I  ought  to  have 
my  meals  at  regular  hours. 

They  held  a  meeting,  some  ten  or  twelve  of  them,  and 
they  brought  a  great  pile  of  papers.  One  sees 
strange  people  nowadays. 

Then  they  all  went  away.  The  Prime  Minister  went 
away  also,  taking  with  him  the  crown  jewels  to  put 
them  in  safe  keeping. 

Even  the  servants  have  gone.    Not  a  single  one  is  left. 
( The  bells  begin  to  chime  midnight. 


ACT  II 

It  is  as  it  is  in  the  city.  Only  the  poor  remain  and 
those  who  have  no  choice. 

( The  last  strokes  sound. 

What  hour  is  that? 
CEBES  :     Midnight. 
THE  KING:     There  is  no  one  here  any  longer. 

But  I  cannot  sleep  and  I  wander  through  the  palace 

From  the  kitchen  to  the  immense  garrets  and  I  seem  to 
hear  behind  the  doors  the  quiet  breathing  of  sleep- 
ers, and  the  fire  upon  the  hearth  sends  out  a  little 
glow. 

These  poor  folk  who  arrived  yesterday,  seeing  the  pal- 
ace empty,  asked  if  they  might  spend  the  night  here. 
They  are  visionaries;  they  wish  to  watch  and  pray. 

It  seems  that  we  have  been  beaten  everywhere.  It  is 
a  shameful  thing! 

Our  blunders 

Surpass  our  misfortunes,  and  all  is  submerged  in  dis- 
honor. And  at  will  the  enemy  crosses  our  frontiers. 

— Terror  is  upon  us ! 

(Silence. — The  snores  of  the  WATCHERS  are 
heard. 

Hark  to  these  watchers  who  watch ! 

They  whistle,  wheeze  and  snort,  they  are  so  fast 
asleep !  It  is  a  voice,  a  horn,  a  leather  trumpet ! 

(Silence. 

I  tell  you  that  a  panic  has  seized  the  city 

And  each  man  cowers  in  his  home  and  dares  not  stir 
from  his  door. 

O  people!  O  city!  O  my  wretched  country,  de- 
stroyed, devastated,  plundered  like  an  unguarded 
sheep-fold ! 

Oh!  oh! 


T£TE-D'OR 

Will  this  terrible  night  never  end! 

Sight  was  horrible  to  me ;  I  went  to  bed.     O  Sleep, 

Kill  me  with  your  leaden  dart ! 

But  I  cannot  sleep  and  I  open  my  eyes  again  in  the 

black  Nothingness. 

It  has  no  knowledge  nor  any  real  existence 
But  the  gloom  takes  weight  and  stiflingly  presses  upon 

us. 

Oh!  oh! 
I  shudder  from  head  to  foot  and  I  cry  aloud  in  my 

anguish ! 

And  I  leap  out  of  bed  and  run  hither  and  thither,  strik- 
ing my  head  against  the  walls. 
And  I  see  again  these  frightful  places  and  I  meet 
Only  Madness  and  Horror! 
— Am  I  keeping  you  awake,  my  child? 
CEBES  :     I  cannot  sleep. 
THE  KING  :     Well,  I  will  wait  here  with  you. 
CEBES:     How  far  away  is  the  enemy? 
THE  KING:     Not  more  than  a  day's  march. 

I  think  the  battle  must  have  already  been  fought. 

— Still  five  hours  till  dawn !    We  shall  see.    Very  soon 

we  shall  know. 

CEBES:     This  very  morning!     It  must  be  so. 
THE  KING:     Where  are  your  parents,  Cebes? 
CEBES  :     I  do  not  know,  Sire.    The  war  has  swept  them 

away. 
THE  KING:     I  have  only  one  daughter  and  I  have  no 

male  child. 

CEBES:     Are  you  speaking  to  me,  Sire? 
THE  KING:     How  pale  you  are,  my  poor  boy!    You  are 
very  ill.     Tete-d'or 

32 


ACT  II 

Was  wise  to  leave  you  here.     We  will  look  after  you, 

lad. 

I  look  at  you !    I  wish  to  contemplate 
A  thing  still  young,  as  I  myself  have  been, 
And  the  dawning  of  power  in  astonished  eyes  1 
The  young  man  sleeps  very  tranquilly.     He  dreams, 

and  in  his  dream  is  the  morning  sun. 
The  evening  has  been  glorious,  a  golden  day  awaits 

him. 

I  also  have  been  young.    I  have  been  a  young  man  also, 
And  I  have  been  a  little,  little  child.     Now  I  have 

lived  three  score  and  fifteen  years,  and  I   am  old 

and  at  the  end  of  my  life. 
And  this  is  what  I  am,  and  this  is  what  I  see ! 
CEBES  :     I  shall  be  the  first  to  die. 

I  have  been  weighed  in  the  balance  and  found  wanting. 

I  have  not  strength  enough  to  rise  and  walk. 

Yes !     What  a  thing  it  is  to  live  ! 

What  an  astonishing  thing  it  is 

Only  to  live !     What  a  mighty  thing  it  is,  only  to  live ! 

He  who  lives 

And  treads  the  earth  under  his  feet,  what  does  he  envy 

the  gods? 
I  die, 

And  only  ask  to  once  again  behold  him. 
THE  KING:     Of  what  are  you  dreaming? 
CEBES:     I  dream  of  the  day. 
THE  KING:     Go,  die! 
CEBES:     What  did  you  say? 
THE  KING  (rising/  and  running  about  distractedly)  :     Go, 

die !    We  all  must  die ! 
O  my  country !    My  country !    Behold  your  King  wan- 

33 


TfiTE-D'OR 

ders  alone  through  his  palace  and  can  give  you  no 
aid. 
I  am  weaker  than  a  woman  in  childbirth. 

(He  is  seized  with  a  fit  of  coughing. 
A-ha  !     A-hha  !     O  my  country ! 

You  were  weary  of  me.     And  everyone  said  that  I 
built  too  much  and  did  not  know  what  I  was  doing 
and  they  took  the  money  from  me. 
But  what  of  that !     I  loved  you,  O  my  realm ! 
And  must  I  see  you  thus  destroyed  and  ravaged ! 
Ah!    Ah!    Ah!     Tremble,   you  lofty  chimneys  that 
tower  to  the  stars  and  midst  the  marguerites  and 
glow-worms  are  mirrored  in  the  brimming  moat. 
Uproot  yourself, 

Ancestral  beech  whose  branches  shade  the  courtyard! 
Down  to  the  dust  with  you,  genealogy! 
And  let  the  walls  be  rent  asunder  from  base  to  battle- 
ment ! 
— Hola !    You  there !    Wake  up ! 

(He  jostles  against  a  sleeper,  who  grunts. 
What  are  you  muttering  down  there? 

(He  kicks  him. 

THE  WATCHER  (asleep)  :     Oh  hum! 
THE  KING:     Wake  up  there,  sack  of  wool!     Wake  up, 
block! 

(He  kicks  him. 
THE  WATCHER  (talking  indistinctly  in  his  sleep)  :      Ho ! 

Ho! 

Do  not  push  me!     I  am  falling!     I  am  falling! 
THE  KING  (catching  him  by  the  foot  and  dragging  him 
across  the  hall)  :     Will  you  wake  up,  or  won't  you? 
THE  WATCHER  (waking  and  rubbing  his  eyes)  :  Eh?  Eh? 
What's  that?    What?    What?    What? 

34 


ACT  II 

What?    What  time  is  it? 
Eh? 

(He  sees  the  KING. 

( The  KING  goes  to  the  middle  of  the  hall  and 
strikes  furiously  on  a  gong.     All  awake  and 
look  at  him,  dumbfounded,  not  moving  from 
their  places. 
THE  KING:     Well,  Watchers! 

(Silence. 
Behold  you  sleep,  and  the  first  part  of  the  night  is  not 

yet  spent! 
They  care  for  nothing  but  eating  and  drinking  and 

talking  to  each  other ! 
Like  brutes,  like  dogs  that  wag  their  tails !    And  when 

they  cease  their  chatter,  they  fall  asleep. 
Their   souls  are  simple!     They  are  not  capable  of 

thinking  for  themselves. 
Do  you  know  where  we  are?     Do  you  know  for  what 

we  are  waiting? 

We  must  watch  and  listen !     We  must  listen  and  wait ! 

( The  song  of  the  nightingale  is  heard. 

The  nightingale  is  singing.    All  night  he  pours  out  his 

soul. 

All  night  the  tiny  bird  sings  of  the  marvels  of  God. 
And  you,  could  you  not  watch?    The  worries  of  your 
wretched  trades  cannot  trouble  you  now.    That  care 
has  been  taken  from  you.      Could  you  not  watch 
and  wait? 

But,  like  hulking  lackeys  you  sleep ! 
And  it  may  be  that  someone  has  entered  and  looked  at 

you, 

Like  the  bird  that  flies  and  does  not  alight. 
But  they  sleep  and  leave  me  all  alone  I 

35 


TfiTE-D'OR 

And  I  David,  The  King,  with  my  white  hairs, 

I  wander  through  the  palace  in  the  pangs  and  agony  of 

death, 
And  I  tread  my  mitre  under  my  feet  and  like  an  infant 

or  an  animal  that  one  clutches  to  one's  breast, 
I  hold  back  with  my  hands  my  escaping  soul ! 
THE  FIRST  WATCHER:     Pardon  us,  O  King. 
THE  SECOND  WATCHER:     O  King,  why  do  you  waken 

us  and  keep  us  from  sleeping? 

Go !     Put  out  the  light  and  lie  down  with  us.     Pillow 
your  head  on  my  side.     All  too  soon  will  come  the 
day. 
The  light  troubles  my  eyes.     I  am  going  to  sleep. 

(He  drops  his  head  on  his  chest.     The  KING 
gazes  at  him  and,  opening  his  mouth  little  by 
little,  begins  to  yawn. 
THE   THIRD  WATCHER:     O   King,   you   yourself   are 

yawning ! 
It  is  weariness.     It  is  the  wind,  the  exhalation  of  the 

void  within  us. 

We  talked  and  our  words  were  only  an  empty  sound; 
and  from  morning  until  evening  we  gave  ourselves 
no  rest. 

In  truth  we  are  dead. 
As  tired 

As  a  man  who  comes  home  drunk  in  the  morning  and 
goes  to  bed  without  undressing  or  taking  off  his 
boots. 

At  first  the  heart  was  silent, 
And  then,  like  a  tom-cat  that  yowls  very  softly,  it  began 

to  voice  its  lament. 

THE  SECOND  WATCHER:     Be  still,  heart !    Be  still,  poor 
heart!     What  would  you  have? 

36 


ACT  II 

THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:     And  even  now  they  come  to 

extinguish  us 

As  you  quench  a  stinking  lamp  with  a  damp  cloth. 
THE  FIRST  WATCHER:     O  night!     O  chasm  of  black- 
ness! 

O  open  door  through  which  whistles  the  wind ! 
We  had  come  hither  and  stretched  ourselves  on  your 

threshold. 
But  the  abyss  gave  back  no  words.     Who  can  fathom 

its  secret  ways? 
So  we  remained  here  and  the  thought  has  come  to  me 

that  there  is  nothing  that  can  be  changed. 
The  night  is  black  and  there  is  no  more  hope. 
THE  THIRD  WATCHER:     They  die  together.     All  the 

people  shall  be  found  cold  in  death,  men  and  women 

and  children  and  babes  at  the  breast. 
Therefore  let  us  lie  here  and  sleep, 
Or  go,  if  you  have  a  wife,  and  lie  with  her. 
And  let  not  the  maid-servant  make  too  much  noise  in 

the  kitchen  or  the  baby  in  the  room  below, 
Or  the  mouse  in  the  cupboard  or  the  fly  against  the 

pane. 
We  have  begged  and  it  has  been  in  vain.     Our  sin  has 

found  us  out.     Who  can  conquer  our  ignorance? 
Why  are  we  born,  since  now  it  seems  better  to  die? 
What  should  we  do  and  why  should  we  do  it? 
We  cannot  attain  to  ability  and  we  sway  and  stagger 

like  a  man  who  stands  in  a  hot  bath, 
Or  one  who  yawns  from  the  fumes  of  a  reeking  opium 

pipe. 
This  parish  dreams  and  is  like  a  people  who,  like  a 

nation  of  hens 
Ranged  on  the  ramparts  of  the  quay,  watch  how  the 

37 


T£TE-D'OR 

red  sun   drops   away  into   a   night  that  knows   no 

day.  .   .  . 

(Pause. 
THE  FIRST  WATCHER:     Such  is  the  report  that  we  have 

to  make  to  you. 
THE  KING:     Wretched  nonentities!     He  is  a  fool  who 

puts  his  trust  in  you ! 
I  knew  you  and  your  fathers  before  you,  a  broken  reed 

to  lean  upon ! 
In  my  old  age  and  bitter  need  there  is  little  comfort 

in  you ! 
My  curse  upon  you,  watchers  that  sleep!     My  curse 

upon  you,  sleepers,  dreamers  of  dreams ! 
THE  FIFTH  WATCHER  :     A  curse  upon  you  yourself,  old 

man !    Be  accursed,  crowned  carrion,  lapdog,  clown ! 
Is  it  not  you  who  have  brought  us  to  this  pass? 
Curse  you,  and  curse  all  men  who  have  power  in  their 

hands, 
Who  have  power  in  their  hands,  O  God,  and  do  not 

know  how  to  use  it ! 
Why  do  you  come  to  break  our  sleep  and  keep  our 

eyes  from  slumber? 
You  curse  me,  do  you,  old  phantom?     And  I  throw 

back  your  curse  in  your  teeth ! 
A  curse  on  your  royal  race,  temporal  King,  on  the  office 

that  you  hold,  on  the  system  that  permits  your  im- 
potent sway! 
A  curse  on  all  my  teachers,  from  the  one  who  taught 

me  to  read  to  the  one  who  turned  me  loose  with  a 

box  on  the  ear,  dazzled  and  full  of  words! 
For  they  took  me  when  I  was  only  a  child  and  they 

gave  me  dirt  to  eat. 
A  curse  on  my  father  and  on  my  mother  also ! 

38 


ACT  II 

A  curse  on  the  food  they  gave  me,  and  on  their  igno- 
rance, and  on  the  example  they  set  me ! 
THE  KING:     Madman,  be  still! 
THE  FIFTH  WATCHER:     Why  did  you  waken  me,  old 

man?    Now  you  shall  not  silence  me! 
Whom  else  shall  I  curse?    I  am  full  of  malediction! 
My  bile  pours  forth  in  a  flood  and  boils  up  even  to  my 

eyes! 

And  so  great  is  the  spasm  that  shakes  me 
That  my  ribs  are  cracking  with  it  and  my  bones  are 

riven  apart! 
I  will  curse  myself! 

Myself,  because  I  am  worthless,  lost,  dishonored, 
Degraded  below  all  beings  and  cowardly  beyond  all 

measure ! 
And  I  will  bury  my  teeth  in  my  arms  and  tear  my  face 

with  my  nails! 
Come  then,  O  Death !     Come,  O  Death ! 

(A  scratching  is  heard  at  the  door.     The  door 
creaks.      Silence.       The    scratching    comes 
again. 
THE  KING  :     Who  is  there  ? 

(Silence. 
Come  in ! 

( The  PRINCESS  enters,  timidly. 
THE  KING  (shading  his  eyes  with  his  hand}  :      Who    are 

you? 

THE  PRINCESS:     Father,  may  I  come  in? 
THE  KING:     Is  it  you,  my  daughter?    It  is  so  dark  here! 

I  did  not  recognise  you.    And  besides  I  am  so  old ! 
What  have  you  been  doing,  my  child? 
THE  PRINCESS:     Pardon  me,  father! 

39 


TfiTE-D'OR 

I  was  all  alone,  for  the  servants  have  run  away 
And  I  was  frightened. 

THE  KING:  We  are  left  alone  in  this  abandoned  pal- 
ace 

Around  this  little  light  placed  on  the  floor. 
THE  PRINCESS:     Shall  I  wait  here  with  you,  father? 
THE  KING:     Stay. 

(She  seats  herself  at  some  distance  from  Cebes. 
CEBES  (half-aloud]  :     I  am  thirsty! 

(She  pours  some  water  into  a  glass  and  gives 

it  to  him. 

CEBES  (shaking  his  head,  without  looking  at  her}  :     I   do 
not  want  to  drink.     It  is  not  worth  the  trouble  any 
longer. 
O  God,  how  long  the  night  is ! 

( The  nightingale  sings  again  suddenly,  close  to 

the  window. 

THE  PRINCESS  (listening,  with  the  glass  in  her  hand}  : 
It  is  the  first  nightingale.  He  is  trying  out  his  song 
again,  after  the  terrible  winter. 

(  The  nightingale  sings  again. 

CEBES:     O  bird!     O  voice  strong  and  pure  in  the  night! 
But  the  measure  of  time  will  not  be  changed. 
O  mystery  of  the  night!     And  you,  O  season  of  the 
nudity  of  love  when  for  leaves  there  are  only  blos- 
soms on  the  trees! 
What  do  you  say,  O  bird?     But  you  are  only  a  voice 

and  not  a  message. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Do  you  think  we   shall  have   tidings 

soon? 
CEBES:     With  the  first  hour  he  will  be  here, 

Bringing  the  news  as  a  laborer  brings  his  tools. 
If  only  I  do  not  die  before  he  comes ! 

40 


ACT  II 

THE  PRINCESS:     Do  not  say  such  a  thing! 
CEBES:     Such  a  thing?     Do  you  think  I  do  not  know 
what  it  means?     Go  and  listen  to  the  rabble  who 
rave  in  the  shadows  of  the  room. 
I  lie  here,  and  I  die  before  my  time  through  the  sin 

of  my  parents.     The  sweat  runs  down  my  face. 
And  if  you  knew  the  terror  that  is  in  my  soul 
You  would  not  treat  me  like  a  little  child  who  says  he 

cannot  sleep. 
Woman,  you  do  not  comfort  me.     I  have  nothing  in 

common  with  you.     I  wait  until  my  older  brother 
Comes  again. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     You  speak  to  me  brutally  as  everyone 

does  nowadays. 

You  do  not  want  me  to  console  you  and  perhaps  in  this 
you  are  wrong. 

(She  moves  away  for  some  distance. 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER  :     Well,  after  all  ... 

That  young  man  with  the  army  he  has  raised,  he  may 

be  able  to  ... 

THE  FIRST  WATCHER :     What  foolishness! 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:     Oh  you,  you  are  frozen  like 

a  well,  and  like  a  well  condemned ! 
But  indeed  there  is  a  power  in  him.     I  could  not  stand 

against  him  when  he  talked 
And  at  the  same  time  looked  at  me.     For  his  voice  is 

strong  and  piercing 
And  he  looked  at  me  in  such  a  way  that  I  felt  it  in  the 

pit  of  my  stomach, 

And  the  flame  of  confusion  mounted  to  my  cheeks. 
Grant  that  he  may  return  with  a  glorious  victory. 
THE  FIFTH  WATCHER  :     And  then  what  will  you  do  ? 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:     O  I  shall  live  in  joy! 


TftTE-D'OR 

Holding  my  face  to  the  sun,  holding  my  hands  to  the 

rain ! 
THE  FIFTH  WATCHER:     Listen  to  him!    You  will  live 

in  joy,  will  you,  carrion? 
Listen  to  what  he  says !    And  already  he  has  forgotten 

what  he  said  a  moment  since  and  remembers  it  no 

more. 

You  will  live  in  joy?     But  I  tell  you  that  you  are  al- 
ready dead   and  life  has   departed   from   you   and 

that  you  weep  because  the  man  is  at  hand  who  will 

drive  you  from  your  place  ! 
Do  not  hope !   For  I  say  to  you  that  the  sword  is  loosed 

against  you  and  it  will  not  rest  till  it  has  devoured 

you,  sweeping  you  from  before  the  face  of  the  sun. 
Like  the  plague  upon  the  poultry,  like  the  pestilence 

upon  the  pigs,  the  sword  has  come  upon  you ! 
This   I   see   and  exult.      Let  me   perish  beneath  the 

sword ! 
I  do  not  wish  to  live  in  joy.    Where  is  the  joy  in  life? 

But  I  long  to  die,  like  a  man  that  has  been  flayed. 
Fools !     'Tis  enough  for  you  that  cozening  life  anoints 

your  lips  with  its  greasy  thumb. 
But  nothing  will  keep  me  from  dying  of  the  malady  of 

death 
Unless  I  lay  hold  on  joy,  like  a  thing  that  one  grasps 

with  one  hand  and  tears  with  the  other, 
Making  no  scrutiny  or  examination, 
And  put  it  in  my  mouth  like  an  everlasting  food,  and 

like  a  fruit  that  one  crushes  between  the  teeth,  so 

that  the  juice  gushes  down  the  throat ! 
Alas  for  me !     There  is  a  shadow  upon  me.     And  I 

know  that  there  is  something  here  invisible  to  my 

eyes. 

42 


ACT  II 

For  we  have  come  to  the  end  of  things. 

Man  has  worked  and  has  not  rested  from  labor;  he 

has  worked  the  livelong  day  from  the  morning  until 

the  evening,  he  has  workeo!  the  whole  of  the  night, 
And  seven  days  a  week,  and  his  work  has  taken  form. 
He  pants  and  perhaps  he  wishes  to  rest.  But  his  work 

is  alive  under  him  and  it  does  not  wish  to  stop.    And 

he  has  become  its  slave,  for  he  is  snared  by  the  feet 
And  trapped  by  the  hands  and  no  longer  can  he  turn 

his  eyes  away. 
And  at  last  they  loosen  him  that  he  may  die  on  the 

ground, 
And,  drowned  in  night  and  utter  wretchedness,  alone 

and  stretched  in  his  dung,  he  gazes  upward, 
Like  the  drunkard  sprawled  in  the  gutter,  staring  with 

bleary  eyes  at  the  star  of  February  in  the  pallid 

western  sky. 
And  his  eyes  are  like  those  of  a  little  child  and  there  is 

surprise  in  them. 
So  ... 

THE  FIRST  WATCHER:     So  what? 
THE  THIRD  WATCHER:     Let  him  alone,  he  is  choking. 
THE  FIFTH  WATCHER  :     I  tell  you  that  you  are  captives 

who  cannot  be  delivered. 
And  the  stone  is  sealed  above  you;  it  is  sealed  and 

firmly  cemented  and  bound  with  iron  bands. 
We  are  shut  in  this  secret  place  with  a  flickering  lamp 

in  our  midst. 
Shall  I  not  be  permitted  to  spit  against  the  walls  of  my 

prison? 
And  after  that  I  shall  drop  my  head  on  my  breast  and 

my  heart  will  break  of  sorrow. 

43 


TfiTE-D'OR 

(Silence.     The  KING  makes  a  sign  to  the  PRIN- 
CESS. 
THE  PRINCESS:     Father,  what  is  it  you  wish? 

(He  speaks  to  her. — She  listens,  her  head  bent. 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:     O  when  will  the  sun  come 


again 


CEBES  :     O  when  will  the  sun  come  again ! 
O  the  golden  Marne, 
Where  the  boatman  half  believes  that  he  rows  over 

hills  and  vineyards  and  houses  whitewashed  to  the 

eaves,  and  gardens  where  the  wash  is  hung  out  to 

dry! 

Yet  a  few  hours, 
A  few  hours  and  the  sun  will  thrust  his  splendor  from 

out  the  Gloom ! 

0  there  were  years  before  I  had  finished  growing 
When  I  went  for  a  swim  before  the  break  of  day,  and 

as    I    climbed   the   muddy   bank,    pushing   my   way 
through  the  reeds, 

1  saw  the  Dawn  brighten  above  the  woods, 

And  like  one  who  puts  on  his  shirt,  all  naked  as  I  was, 
I  raised  both  arms  towards  the  burning  poppies  of 
gold! 
O  when  will  the  sun  come  again !     Could  I  but  see  you 

once  more,  sun  that  makes  bright  the  earth! 
Yet  I  know  that  never  again  shall  I  watch  you  rise  in 

the  East. 
THE  PRINCESS  (to  the  KING)  :     Do   not   ask  this   thing 

of  me !     I  could  not  do  it. 
THE  KING  :     It  is  my  will ! 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Then  your  will  shall  be  obeyed ! 

(She  goes  out.    Pause. 

44 


ACT  II 

(  The  PRINCESS  re-enters.  She  wears  a  red  robe 
and  a  golden  mantle  that  covers  her  from 
head  to  foot.  On  her  head  is  a  sort  of  mitre 
and  a  thick  black  braid  is  thrown  across  her 
shoulders.  She  comes  forward,  her  eyes 
closed,  moving  rhythmically  and  very  slowly, 
and  stops  at  the  edge  of  the  lamplight.  All 
look  at  her  in  silence  and  with  great  atten- 
tion. 

Pause. 

One  of  the  bystanders  rises   and,   taking   the 

lamp,   he  holds  it  close  to  the  face  of  the 

PRINCESS  and  examines  it.     Then  he  replaces 

the  lamp  on  the  floor  and  returns  to  his  place. 

THE  FIRST  WATCHER  (breaking  the  silence]  :      Who    is 

there? 

THE  SECOND  WATCHER  :     Hush !     Listen ! 
THE  PRINCESS  (in  a  low  voice,  opening  her  eyes  for  an 
instant}  :     One  with  closed  eyes  who  is   about  to 
awaken  from  a  long  sleep. 

(She  closes  her  eyes  again. — Silence. 

THE  FOURTH  WATCHER :     What  did  I  say  of  the  sun? 

Here  in  this  room  there  is  another  sun  who  gazes  upon 

us  in  his  splendor! 
Who  is  this,  clothed  in  such  a  garment,  with  hands 

hidden  beneath  a  tissue  of  gold? 
Who  is  this,  of  the  height  of  a  human  being, 
Who  stands  in  a  flowing  robe  between  the  lamp  and 

the  dark? 

Turn  towards  us  and  hold  your  face  before  us ! 
Ahhh! 
Our  unworthiness  is  bodily  present  among  us !     There 

45 


T£TE-D'OR 

is  not  one  of  us  who  can  escape  it!     Beautiful  and 
blind, 

Do  not  reopen  your  eyes!     Let  us  feast  on  your  love- 
liness 

Now  that  you  do  not  look  at  us. 
THE  PRINCESS  (sighing]  :  N  n  n! 
THE  FIRST  WATCHER  (half-aloud)  :  What  does  that 

mean? 
THE  SECOND  WATCHER:     Do  you  not  understand? 

(Pantomime.       The    PRINCESS    seems    to    be 
awakening  from   sleep,   with   slow  gestures 
and  eyes  always  closed. 
Look! 
THE  PRINCESS  (sighing  again]  :     No!    ah! 

(She  slowly  shakes  her  head.     Then  remains 

motionless. 

THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:     Will  you  awake? 
THE  PRINCESS  (very  softly)  :     Ah! 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:     Come,  make  an  end,  if  those 

eyelids  still  are  faithful  to  one  another. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Ah ! 

Must  I  leave  you,  lovely  land? 
THE  FIRST  WATCHER:     What  land? 
THE  PRINCESS:     "I  sleep"  it  is  called. 

I  have  fled  from  life,  I  am  dancing  in  a  dream, 

My  feet  are  set  among  strawberry  blossoms  and  lilies 

of  the  valley. 

I  cannot  move  from  my  place. 

A  dull  voice  says,  "Come !"    A  clear  voice  says,  "Go  I" 
But  I  cannot  move  from  my  place. 

(She  opens  her  eyes. 

THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:     Look  and  see!     Alas,   you 
have  ceased  to  smile. 

46 


ACT  II 

THE  PRINCESS  (stretching  out  both  arms  and  pointing  to 

the  bystanders)  :     Who  are  these? 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:     Living  men,   and  I  am  one 

also. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     And  why  do  they  stay  here,  seated  on 

the  floor? 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:     It  is  night,  and  there  is  no 

light  while  it  endures. 
THE  PRINCESS:     And  what  is  that  lamp? 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:     Lam-pas  est  expectations. 
THE  PRINCESS:     And  for  what  are  they  waiting? 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER  :     For   Death,  who   is  on  the 

way,  and  the  door  is  open  for  him. 
THE  PRINCESS:     And  what  dwelling  is  this? 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:     It  is  the  house  of  the  King. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     And  why  have  they  placed  the  lamp 

upon  the  floor? 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:     I  will  tell  you  that.    It  is  so 

that  they  can  see  it. 

(Short  pause. 
THE  FIRST  WATCHER  :     And  who  are  you  that  question 

us? 

(Short  pause. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     I  do  not  know.    Indeed  I  do  not  know 

who  I  am! 
And  you,  do  you  not  know  ?    Oh,  who  among  you  will 

tell  me? 
THE  THIRD  WATCHER:     Gaudium  nostrum  es  et  dilec- 

tio,  et  jussimus  te  valere. 
THE  PRINCESS:     Truly? 
THE   SECOND  WATCHER:     Have  you   come   again,   O 

woman? 

47 


TfiTE-D'OR 

Your  absence  has  been  long,  but  I  have  not  forgotten, 

and  often  I  dreamed  of  you. 

THE  PRINCESS:     Then  you  have  known  me  before? 
THE  SECOND  WATCHER:     Ask  me  no  questions,   for  I 
am  a  surly  man. 

(Pause. 

THE   PRINCESS    (looks  pensively  from   one   to   another. 
They  lower  their  eyes)  :     I  see  more  clearly  now. 
I  see  you  all.    Surely  the  darkness  shall  not  hide  you 
nor  the  light  of  the  lamp. 
It  is  I.     What  do  you  want  of  me? 
You  dreamed  of  me,  you  say?    Well,  I  am  here. 
— Why  do  you  keep  your  eyes  lowered?     Are  you 

afraid  to  look  at  me? 
THE  THIRD  WATCHER  :     There  is  nothing  that  we  want, 

O  woman,  and  we  do  not  ask  you  for  anything. 
THE   PRINCESS    (looking  at   him)  :     So   it   is  you.     I 
know    you    now.     (She    turns    towards    the    FIRST 
WATCHER)  And  you!   (She  turns  towards  the  SEC- 
OND WATCHER)  And  you!   (She  turns  towards  the 
THIRD  WATCHER)  And  you!  (She  turns  towards  the 
FOURTH  WATCHER) 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER  (rising  hurriedly)  :  Make  way! 

Let  me  go ! 

THE  PRINCESS  (stretching  her  hand  towards  him)  :  Stay! 
THE    FOURTH    WATCHER:     I    understand    only    your 
beauty !     It  is  all  a  play  but  why  does  she  turn  her- 
self towards  us 

With  the  face  of  bygone  things  and  of  regret, 
Alas!  and  things  that  were  never  to  be?     I  remember 
the  sweetness  of  love !     Do  not  shame  me  before 
these  men! 

48 


ACT  II 

THE  PRINCESS:     Shame?     And  I  myself,  can  I  not  be 

ashamed  before  them, 
Like  a  wise  and  modest  man  who  stands  erect  amidst 

drunkards  ? 
Ah !  Ah !   I  see  and  I  know !    Alas !    I  see !    I  see  and 

I  understand! 

THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:  We  salute  you,  O  beauty! 
We  salute  you,  reproach! 

0  Notary  of  the  dying,  now  you  are  drawing  near  us 
bearing  your  book  and  scroll. 

THE  PRINCESS  :     Truly,  I  pity  you ! 

THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:     Be  sad,  for  we  are  sad. 

( The  nightingale  sings  again. 

THE  PRINCESS:  I  am  not  sad!  The  nightingale  sings 
and  I  will  also  sing!  Let  him  sing  and  I  will  sing 
also! 

And  my  voice  shall  be  uplifted  like  the  piping  of  a  flute, 
Higher,  louder,  enfolding  the  city  and  the  night. 

1  will  sing  and  cast  away  all  bounds  and  all  restraint! 
The  bird  sings  in  the  summer  and  is  silent  in  the  winter, 

but  I  will  sing  in  the  chill  and  bitter  air,  and  when 
all  is  frozen  I  will  rise,  drunk  with  ecstasy,  towards 
the  naked  heavens! 

For  my  voice  is  that  of  love  and  in  my  heart  is  the  fire 
of  youth. 

(She  opens  her  mouth  as  if  about  to  sing. 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER  :     Be  silent ! 
THE  PRINCESS:     You  do  not  wish  me  to  sing? 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER  :     Be  silent ! 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Then  I  will  talk  to  you  and  will  not 

sing.   .  .  . 

Did  you  think  I  had  gone  away?    In  truth  I  was  always 
with  you. 

49 


TfiTE-D'OR 

And  I  will  not  tell  you  who  I  am,  for  you  know  it  and 
do  not  forget. 

Every  woman  is  only  a  mother.  I  am  she  who  rears 
and  nourishes, 

And  entreating  you  for  yourselves  in  the  sacred  name 
of  pity, 

Receive  from  you  for  her  portion 

A  boundless  labor  hard  to  undertake !  But  because  I 
do  not  speak  with  your  speech  you  despise  me. 

And  you  did  not  think  to  see  me;  but  at  last  I  have 

shown  myself! 

THE  THIRD  WATCHER:     Is  it  you? 

THE  PRINCESS  (after  silently  contemplating  them]  :     O 
fools ! 

Fools!    What  shall  I  say?    What  shall  I  leave  unsaid? 

Did  you  believe  that  you  could  hide  from  me?  I  pene- 
trate to  the  bottom  of  your  souls.  Nothing  is  hid- 
den in  obscuring  shadow. 

And  you  will  not  always  be  able 

To  steal  away  from  me  like  a  thief  of  the  night. 

What  have  you  done?    How  have  you  fled  from  me? 

I  could  call  to  each  of  you 

By  his  name  and  summon  him  to  stand  and  face  me, 

And  one  by  one  I  could  recount  his  acts, 

Showing  his  deeds  of  folly  and  how  he  had  sinned 

Through  his  own  fault  and  not  the  fault  of  another, 

So  that  before  me  he  would  be  like  a  man  who  gives 
himself  up  for  lost. 

O  presumptuous  fool!  O  vile  and  brazen  companion! 
O  horrible  and  ridiculous  violence ! 

You  have  rebuffed  me  and  have  thrust  me  forth,  but 
to-day  I  shall  call  you  to  account  and  you  shall  an- 
swer me! 

50 


ACT  II 

I  shall  call  you  to  account  with  a  sharp  and  piercing 
voice,  and  it  shall  pass  through  your  heart  like  a 
sword ! 

And  I  shall  be  harder  and  more  bitter  to  you  than  a 

shrew  to  her  husband ! 

THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:     What  could  we  do? 
THE  THIRD  WATCHER:     Shall  we  shriek  before  you  like 
mandrakes?     Shall  we  cause  the  moon  to  tremble 
with  our  cries,  more  dreadful  than  the  shrieks  of 
the  murderer  caught  in  the  clutches  of  the  law? 
THE  FIRST  WATCHER:     With  what  does  she  reproach 
us? 

She  is  a  woman.    Have  we  not  known 

Women  like  her  ?    And  have  we  not  found  them  noth- 
ing and  less  than  nothing? 
THE  PRINCESS  :     And  was  I  then  so  ugly, 

So  far  from  pleasing  that  no  one  of  you  would  have 
looked  with  favor  upon  me,  and  followed  after  me, 
and  taken  me  for  his  mistress? 

What  have  you  done  for  me?  And  yet  what  is  there 
that  I  could  not  give  you? 

Sometimes  the  Muse  descends  to  wander  the  ways  of 
earth, 

And  profiting  by  the  evening  hour  when  the  towns- 
people sit  at  supper, 

Passes  by,  with  laurel  wreathing  her  brow;  walks,  bare- 
foot, beside  the  flowing  stream,  singing  immortal 
verses 

All  alone  like  a  solitary  stag. 

And  I,  though  I  love  that  calm  retreat, 

Cannot  always  remain  in  the  fountains  and  caves  and 
deserted  hollows  among  the  oaks, 

But  I  cry,  at  the  cross-roads,  and  in  the  city  streets, 


T£TE-D'OR 

In  the  bustling  market-place  and  by  the  doors  of  the 

dance  halls, 

"Who  will  barter  handfuls  of  blackberries  for  hand- 
fuls  of  heavy  gold  and  give  the  flesh  of  his  heart  in 
exchange  for  a  lasting  love?" 

(She  goes  to  each  of  the  bystanders  and,  forcing 
him  to  raise  his  head  and  seizing  it  by  the 
hair  and  the  chin,  she  looks  in  his  face,  her 
eyes  close  to  his.  Then  she  resumes  her 
former  position  in  silence. 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:  Save  our  souls  for  us  if  you 

have  the  power ! 

THE  PRINCESS:     From  this  time  forth  we  are  strangers! 
Let  the  shadows  and  the  lamp  bear  witness  to  our  di- 
vorce ! 
Many  a  time  in  such  dim  shades,  I  have  warned  you 

earnestly.    But  you  would  give  no  heed. 
Here  in  this  murky  light, 
Now  that  your  souls  are  numbered  with  those  that  are 

marked  for  death,  I  come  to  you  once  more 
Not  to  repair  the  breach,  but  to  proclaim  it! 
You  invoke  me  at  a  moment  when  you  are  beyond  all 

aid! 

What  have  you  made  of  me  ? 
It  is  most  fitting  that  you  should  taste  of  death ! 
But  as  for  me,  I  suffer  an  iniquitous  punishment  and 

am  a  reproach  to  you 
Unavailingly ! 
Alas  that  I  should  have  met  so  much  stubbornness  and 

ignorance ! 
Alas,  I  could  cry  aloud  in  my  grief  and  if  you  could 

not  endure 
To  hear  the  cries  of  your  wife  in  the  agony  of  her 

52 


ACT  II 

travail,  how  could  you  bear  to  hear  my  grievances 
against  you? 
Oh !     It  is  late !    And  I 
Must  go  away  alone  like  a  widow  harshly  evicted  from 

her  home ! 
You  will  think  of  me  with  regret  in  the  hour  of  your 

agony, 

But  I  abandon  you  and  leave  this  dwelling.     And  may 
the  spiders  weave  their  webs  here ! 

(Pause.     She  moves  backwards  till  she  is  near 
the   bed   of   Cebes   and,    bending   her   head 
towards  him. 
And  you,  sick  man? 

(CEBES  raises  his  eyes,  sees  her,  and  begins  to 

laugh. 

THE  PRINCESS:     Why  do  you  laugh? 
CEBES:     That  thing  on  your  head  is  so  queer! 

I  can't  help  laughing  when  I  look  at  it! 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Look  at  me  more  closely. 

Don't  you  think  that  I  could  cure  you  ? 
CEBES:     What  shall  I  do  to  be  cured,  Most  Beautiful? 
THE  PRINCESS:     You  must  believe   me   and  love   me, 

Cebes. 

CEBES  :     I  have  given  my  troth  to  one  and  to  one  only, 
and  I  will  die  and  will  have  no  other  love. 

(Silence. 

What  more  have  you  to  say? 
THE  PRINCESS  (making  a  movement}  :     Farewell! 
CEBES  :     Do  not  go !    Stay  with  me ! 
THE  PRINCESS:     Take  my  hand.    (He  takes  it.)    Listen 

to  my  last  word. 
CEBES  :     I  am  listening. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Farewell ! 

53 


T£TE-D'OR 

CEBES:     Not  that!     Not  that  cruel  word!     Do  not  go ! 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Farewell ! 
The  song  draws  to  an  end! 

And  the  face  of  the  singer,  The  Gatherer-of-Flowers, 
Fades  in  the  dusk  of  evening 
Till  only  the  eyes  remain  and  the  violet  ghost  of  the 

mouth. 

He  who  loves  goes  forth  to  greet  The  Bride, 
And  the  door  is  opened  by  invisible  hands. 
Farewell,  for  I  am  going. 

(CEBES  half  rises  and,  stretching  out  his  hand 
towards  her,  passes  it  over  her  face.     There 
is  a  tense  silence. 
THE  PRINCESS  (rushing  to  the  middle  of  the  stage]  :     O 

my  father, 
You  commanded  me  to  show  myself  before  you  and  I 

am  here,  a  wretched  girl  decked  out  in  these  fan- 
tastic robes! 
I  have  spoken,  adding  what  was  needful  to  phrases 

learned  by  heart.     I  suffer!     I  suffer!     My  soul  is 

shaken  in  me! 
And  you,  my  father,  is  it  thus  I  see  you,  gnawing  your 

beard, 
And  fixing  blood-shot  eyes  on  the  ground !    Let  me  go, 

I  beg  of  you! 
The  beautiful  and  illustrious  lady  who  spoke  just  now 

is  gone 
And  in  her  place  there  is  only  I  myself,  an  every-day 

young  girl,  careful  of  her  nails  and  her  complexion. 
Good-bye,  father !     Good-bye  to  you  all ! 
For  the  sadness  rises  also  in  me  and  I  must  go, 
Groping  my  way  through  gloomy  corridors. 
O  father !    O  mother  that  I  never  knew  I 

54 


ACT  II 

Soon  I  shall  lie  full  length  on  the  ground  with  out- 
spread hands, 

Or,  with  a  hidden  spring  of  blood  welling  up  between 
my  breasts,  I  shall  mock  the  maid  who  falls  asleep  in 
her  chair. 

— Off  with  you,  heavy  and  importunate  robes ! 

(She  goes  out. 

THE  KING  (springing  violently  to  his  feet]  :    Go!     It  is 
well! 

No  imagined  terror!    Here  is  horror  itself. 

Look  at  me,  me  the  old  man ! 

By  this  hoary  beard  that  I  tear  with  both  hands,  I  swear 

That  disaster  incarnate 

Stands  before  you  and  cries,  "Adsum!" 

You  heard  the  sound  of  his  rage  like  a  battle  beneath 
the  horizon, 

And  now  with  nodding  funereal  plumes  The  Agony  of 
Death  strides  terribly  towards  you,  like  a  colossus, 
with  copper  cheeks,  shaking  the  flimsy  structures  you 
have  reared! 

"I  wandered  in,  the  night  with  foam  as  thick  as  a 
camel's  slaver,  dripping  from  my  jaws!  I  was  an 
outcast !  The  hounds  of  hell  were  gnawing  my 
heart ! 

Now  in  the  day 

I  stride  before  the  legions,  mid  blood  and  the  crackle 
of  fire,  like  a  flaming  windmill,  brandishing  a  flail, 
clenching  between  my  teeth  a  sword  as  big  as  an 
oar!" 
THE  FIFTH  WATCHER  :     I  defy  you !    I  fear  you  not ! 

— Mangle  me,  cut  me  to  bits  and  my  severed  head 
shall  spring  and  bite ! 

55 


TfiTE-D'OR 

Let  the  thunderbolt  flay  me  and  like  Ajax  voiding 
lightning  and  the  water  of  the  sea  from  mouth  and 
nose, 

A  blinding  mass,  I  shall  vomit 

Against  heaven  my  malediction  like  a  dart. 
THE  KING  :     Ruin !     Destruction ! 

The  forest  flames !  The  rivers  are  choked  with  wreck- 
age !  The  belfries  full  of  clanging  bells  crash  into 
chaos! 

O  my  desolate  fields ! 

O  my  strong  men  who  strew  the  roads,  like  crushed 
beetles ! 

O  the  grocery  and  the  bakery !  O  villages  ill  guarded 
by  the  Cock  of  the  Cross,  O  towns  devoured  by  the 
ravening  grave-yard! 

Past  is  the  time  of  ploughing  and  reaping  and  peaceful 
sharing  of  daily  bread! 

And  we  ourselves  like  dead  animals  shall  rot  among 
weeds  and  nettles, 

Or  we  shall  be  forced  to  take  refuge  in  woods  and  caves 
and  learn  again  the  language  of  nymphs  and  ravens. 

O  race!  O  dynasty!  Long  have  I  lived!  Long  has 
the  King  been  governor  of  this  country. 

Solitary,  searching  for  Wisdom,  fixing  on  Duty  his  arid 
eyes, 

A  helmsman  made  wise  by  steering  in  the  uncharted 
sea,  practised  in  deciphering  the  slow  changes  of  the 
stars ! 

That  I  should  cease  to  see  and  feel! 

Oh,  this  life 

Looks  with  two  faces  upon  us : 

Dawn,  her  cheeks  anointed  with  honey  and  honey- 
comb, 

56 


ACT  II 

And  Care,  with  swarthy  face  like  an  old  fisherman, 

taciturn,  shedding  tears  of  pitch! 
That  I  should  fall, 

Striking  the  echoing  pavement  with  the  head 
Of  an  anointed  King! 
THE  SECOND  WATCHER:     Peace,  peace,  O  King,  and  do 

not  speak  so  loudly !     Be  still!     If  you  cannot  sleep, 

keep  silence! 
For  this  is  the  dreadful  part  of  the  night  that  was  not 

meant  for  the  eye  of  man, 
And  this  is  a  task  that  was  not  intended  for  him. 

Nevertheless  let  him  sleep  his  sleep; 
For  in  its  splendor  the  army  of  the  heavens  passes 

above  the  earth, 
And  is  reflected  in  the  puddles  and  the  open  wells  in 

the  market-gardens. 
Wait  patiently  and  listen  to  the  cock  crowing  in  the 

night, 
And  soon  it  will  be  the  hour  when  the  baker  throws 

the  dough  on  the  kneading  board  with  a  dull  thud, 

a  sign  that  the  dawn  is  near. 
I  think  that  the  sun  will  rise  and  will  strike  with  a 

ruddy  light  the  wall   overgrown  with   the   ancient 

royal  vine, 
And  the  light  and  the  breeze  will  enter  through  the 

windows  vast  and  high! 

I   shall   think  only  this   and  shall  keep   my   eyes  up- 
raised.    For  they  are  made  to  see  and  if  they  close 

it  is  only  to  open  again. 

(Prolonged  silence. — The  sound  of  cannon. 
THE  FIRST  WATCHER  :     It  is  he !    There  is  news ! 

( The  MESSENGER  enters,  out  of  breath. 

57 


TfrTE-D'OR 

THE  FIRST  WATCHER:     Speak!    Why  do  you  open  your 
mouth  so  wide?     Why  do  you  nod  your  head?     If 
It  should  be  not  haste  but  joy  that  makes  you  speech- 
less, if 

You  only  bring  us  tidings  that  are  not  of  disaster, 
Laugh  only;  do  not  keep  that  ominous  air 
Cassius! 

THE  MESSENGER  :     O 
Triumph ! 
What  glory !   What  human  heart  will  be  strong  enough 

to  bear 
This! 

And  you,  my  brothers  that  I  now  behold  again, 
Listen  to  this  resplendent  news ! 

THE  THIRD  WATCHER:     Speak!   What?  You  say  .  .  . 
THE  MESSENGER:     .  .  .  That  we  have  gained  the  vic- 
tory?   Yes. 
THE  THIRD  WATCHER:     That  this  Kingdom  is  saved? 

That  we  live  once  more?    That  this  land 
Is  still  intact  with  its  people  in  its  length  and  in  its 

breadth  ? 

I  listen  trembling!     How, 
How  is  it  possible? 

You  do  not  say  that  we  are  victorious,  we? 
THE  MESSENGER:     Yes.    That  is  what  I  said! 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER  :     My  hair  stands  on  end  and 

my  tears  pour  forth  like  the  melting  snow ! 
And  I  will  utter  such  a  cry 
That  one  would  think  that  a  dead  man  had  risen  from 

his  tomb,  sending  the  stone  flying! 
What! 
That  armed  horde  that  fell  upon  us  terribly  arrayed, 

58 


ACT  II 

those  successive  lines,  those  strong  columns  that, 
marching  like  one  man,  advanced  across  the  valleys 
and  the  plains,  that  interminable  line  of  cannon  .  .  . 

THE  MESSENGER  :     I  said  that  we  had  conquered. 
Did  you  not  understand?    I  said  that  we  had  won  the 
battle. 

THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:  What  is  a  single  battle?  The 
menace  is  always  there. 

THE  MESSENGER  :  The  enemy  is  retreating,  struck  with 
terror.  Halted  as  though  he  had  seen  The  Angel 
of  Death! 

THE  THIRD  WATCHER:  Of  course!  He  was  here! 
He  has  shown  himself  in  their  path. 

THE  SECOND  WATCHER:  You  say  that  the  enemy  is  re- 
treating? 

THE  MESSENGER:     Retreating!     Routed!     Fleeing! 

THE  FOURTH  WATCHER:  You  bring  warmth  into  a 
frozen  place  and  into  a  pitch  black  night  a  dazzling 
brightness. 

Be  patient  with  me !     Repeat  it  yet  again !     Nourish 
my  heart  with  that  sustaining  word! 

THE  MESSENGER:  We  have  conquered!  We  have 
driven  them  before  us!  Our  strength  has  pre- 
vailed! 

THE  FOURTH  WATCHER  :     Triumph ! 

THE  FIRST  WATCHER  :     Do  you  say  nothing,  Sire  ? 

THE  KING  :     O  my  children ! 
I  cannot  speak, 

For  an  hour  better  than  I  have  deserved 
Has  come  upon  me, 

On  me,  the  incapable,  useless  governor  of  this  coun- 
try! 

59 


TfiTE-D'OR 

O  Messenger,  you  have  restored  their  taste  to  bread 

and  wine. 

Let  the  bells  ring  out  till  all  the  air  resounds, 
Let  the  round  brazen  throats  beneath  the  bell-ringer's 

feet  fill  with  our  jubilation, 

The  circle  of  the  earth  and  the  height  of  heaven! 
Let  the  singers  of  our  triumph  stand  forth  together, 
And  let  their  mouths  exhaling 
A  song  of  benediction,  eat  of  the  sun  till  evening! 
Wine !  Wine  !   I  wish  to  drink  with  you,  O  Messenger, 
Even  as  two  carters  do  who  meet  in  a  roadside  inn! 

(Wine  is  brought. 
O  fortune,  I  drink  to  you  with  this  trembling  hand! 

Accept  this  toast ! 

0  fortune,  since  you  have  given  us  this  hour,  conduct 
us  where  you  will!      (He  drinks.)     Excellent  glass 
of  wine ! 

THE  MESSENGER:     I  cannot 

Put  wine  between  my  teeth  till  that  excessive  joy 
Which  buoyed  me  upon  my  horse  as  I  galloped  towards 

you 
Has  spoken. 

1  say  that  the  kingdom  has  been  saved  by  handfuls  of 

gold  and  jewels! 
He  was  not  ashamed  to  beg,  on  the  bridges,  at  the 

cross-roads, 

Stretching  out  his  princely  hands, 
Burying  in  the  mud  his  armored  knees  .   .   . 
THE  THIRD  WATCHER:     We  have  seen  him! 
THE  MESSENGER:       .  .  .  Fixing  before  him  his  spar- 
kling eyes,  like  an  Andromeda  with  horse's  mane, 
more  proud  than  the  god  of  the  wind  when  at  the 
water's  edge 

60 


ACT  II 

He  kneels,  stretching  out  his  hands  to  the  chains  on 

the  rocks  of  Occismor, 
Till  he  was  buried  up  to  the  thighs  in  alms ! 
For  each  man  looked  at  him  with  astonishment,  and 

struck  with  a  vague  shame,  he  gave  in  silence  all  that 

he  had  and  placed  it  on  the  ground  before  him. 
He  had  come,  our  king,  unique  in  his  beauty,  adorned 

with  marvellous  deeds ! 
And,  full  of  a  secret  sadness,  we  recalled  his  face,  shy 

and  terrible. 

THE  FIRST  WATCHER:     It  is  thus  that  .  .  . 
THE  MESSENGER:     If  anyone  dared  to  speak  to  him,  un- 

addressed,  saying,  "Who  are  you?" 
He  looked  at  him  a  moment,   and  answered,   "I  am 

what  I  seem  to  be.     You  are  not  mistaken." 
"Oh!"  one  said  to  him,  "Oh,  war! 
When  shall  we  have  peace?" 
"You  wish  to  live  in  peace?" 
"Surely,"  he  answered,  "Yes,  indeed." 
"Coward,  you  cannot!     Even  now  they  come  to  rob 

you  of  your  goods 
And  the  man  is  at  hand  who  will  take  you,  caught  by 

the  scruff  of  the  neck,  and  geld  you  like  a  domestic 

animal." 

And  the  questioner  said,  "What  can  I  do?" 
"Fight!"  he  answered,  "Resist!" 
"And  conquer  also,  perhaps?"     "You  can  do  it,"  he 

replied  and  he  looked  at  him  fixedly. 
"O  man  insulted  and  outraged, 
To-day  you  can  wash  away  your  shame  and  rise  from 

your  baseness  and  give  the  lie  to  the  name  they  have 

bestowed  upon  you  I" 

61 


T£TE-D'OR 

These  words  were  repeated  and  often  he  who  heard 

them 
Did  not  forget  them,  but,  leaving  his  wife  alone  in  her 

bed  to  weep, 
He  paced  all  night  the  floor  of  his  room,  pondering 

this  question, 
"If  I  try,  why  cannot  I?" 

Until  a  little  phrase,  full  of  a  sense  of  strength, 
Impinged  upon  his  consciousness :  "I  can !" 
THE  FIRST  WATCHER:     It  is  astonishing!     It  is  utterly 

astonishing!     I  did  not  believe  what  they  told  me. 
THE  MESSENGER:     Then  it  was 

That  in  the  unhappy  soul  was  born  the  fury  of  the 

captive ! 
Renouncing  life  and  crying  "Forward!",  they  flocked 

to  where  the  bugle  sounded  the  assembly. 
Still  not  sure  of  themselves, 
When,  like  a  superintendent  among  his  workmen,  he 

walked  among  them,  looking  at  them  all,  assuring 

himself 

That  everything  was  according  to  his  command. 
They  turned  to  him  their  ranks  of  eyes  of  every  kind 

and  hue,  and  they  were  comforted  again. 
To   a  man  they  gladly  left  their   families   and  their 

work. 
There  was  on  the  slope  a  mighty  growth  of  broom, 

tree  of  yellow  flowers,  dear  to  the  bees. 
He  had  it  cut  down  and,  having  kissed  it,  he  bade  them 

bear  it  before  him.     Then  he  mounted  his  horse. 
And  the  soldiers  waiting  their  turn  to  set  out, 
Heard  behind  them  the  rustling  of  the  flag,  cock  of  the 

war,  song  of  sails! 
ALL:     Come!    Speak!    Speak! 

62 


ACT  II 

THE   MESSENGER:     But  when  they  came  to  the  field 

where  they  had  to  die  or  conquer, 
They  knew  another  flag. 
THE  FIRST  WATCHER  :     What  flag? 
THE  MESSENGER:     What  flag?  Not  a  tatter  of  silk,  not 

a  woman's  shirt  that  a  child  waves  about  on  the  end 

of  a  bean-pole ! 
But  like  some  old  gibbet  that  creaks  beneath  its  burden 

of  corpses,  like  a  mast  with  its  sinister  yardarms, 
The  monstrous  standard  of  our  wretchedness,   enor- 
mous, charged  with  chains ! 
They  saw  it  while  they  set  their  feet  on  a  soil  enriched 

by  the  flesh 

Of  their  fathers  and  mothers,  like  fallen  leaves! 
At   first   they  kept   their   ranks,   fighting   shoulder   to 

shoulder,  and  thus  it  was  for  some  time. 
But  finally  full  of  a  rage  like  the  lust  for  gold, 
They  rushed  forward  all  together,  raising  discordant 

cries. 

And  then  a  sudden  panic 

Arose  as  if  all  at  once,  though  it  was  day,  the  Night 
Rearing  up  her  giant  head  with  its  diadem  of  stars, 
Confounded  the  sense  with  the  blast  of  her  prodigious 

horn. 
They  were  astounded,  those  others,  and  they  trembled, 

and  suddenly  the  serried  ranks  of  our  foes, 
Like  colts  stampeded  by  a  clanking  chain, 
Turned  tail  and  fled! 

Thus  did  we  raise  that  army,  having  gotten  under  it, 
Thus  did  we  tilt  it  backward  like  a  cask, 
Spilling  a  great  tumult  of  men 
On  the  earth  and  in  the  reedy  beds  of  streams. 

63   ' 


TfiTE-D'OR 

Think  of  it!     That  innumerable   horde  turned  their 

backs,  and  ran  before  us  !    Zounds  I 
Oh  who  has  seen  such  a  massacre,  the  piles  of  wounded 

and  dying 

Gasping  like  a  catch  of  fish  in  the  bottom  of  a  boat! 
ALL  :     Triumph ! 

THE  MESSENGER  :     Sharp  cries  resounded  on  the  bleed- 
ing air,   and  the  mad  galloping  of  horsemen,   and 

cannon  whose   flashes   glared  through  the   pall   of 

smoke ! 
God! 

We  chased  them  with  a  shoe  like  rats ! 
Doddering  gray  beards  with  a  gesture 
Put   to    flight   battalions,    and   children   whose   voices 

broke, 
Catching  him  by  the  bridle,  led  away  the  horse  and  his 

rider. 

This  I  saw. 

I  saw  the  captured  flags  brought  in  like  fagots ! 
I  remember  soldiers,  black-bearded,  or  with  chins 
Bristling  with  white  hairs, 

Who  in  the  evening,  while  the  soup  was  cooking, 
Stood,  their  feet  in  the  heather,  like  smiths  worn  out 

with  toil, 

Red  like  the  arbute-berry  in  the  ruddy  gloaming, 
Contemplating  through  the  branches   the   scarlet  sky 

from  which  comes  life. 
— As  for  him, 

Those  who  stood  by  his  stirrups,  taking  his  orders, 
Listening  with  parted  lips  to  what  he  said,  for  the  first 

time  saw  on  his  face, 
Like  that  of  a  man  who,  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd,  mocks 

at  an  absurd  misfortune, 

64 


ACT  II 

The  inconstant  smile  of  a  young  girl ! 
ALL  :     Triumph !    Triumph ! 
THE  MESSENGER:     Now  let  these  eyes  which  have  seen 

such  a  spectacle 

Cover  themselves  with  a  film,  and  let  this  vase 
That    has    contained    such    an    image    dash    itself    to 

pieces ! 

To  think  that  I,  I  should  have  lived  to  see  such  a  day ! 
Rejoice!     Victory  whinnying  like  a  virgin  mare 
Rolls  on  the  battlefield, 
Lashing  out  with  shining  hooves,  turning  her  trout's 

belly  to  the  sky ! 
CEBES:     O  messenger! 
THE  MESSENGER:     Who  calls  me? 
CEBES:     Is  that  all  that  Tete-d'or  said  to  you?     Won't 

he  be  coming  soon? 

THE  MESSENGER:     Are  you  he  whom  he  calls  Cebes? 
CEBES:     Well? 
THE  MESSENGER:     In  that  case,  Tete-d'or  gave  me  a 

message  for  you. 

CEBES:     What?    Did  he  think  of  me? 
THE  MESSENGER  :     He  told  me  to  say  that  he  will  soon 

be  here.    Listen,  all  of  you ! 
These  are  his  words,  "Say  that  I  shall  be  there. 
I  am  coming,  I  myself." 
CEBES:     He  is  coming? 
THE  MESSENGER:     He  is  hard  upon  my  heels. 

( Trumpet  without. 
THE  FIRST  WATCHER  :     Hark ! 

THE  THIRD  WATCHER  :     I  hear  the  voice  of  the  trumpet. 

(Pause.     Noise  of  arms  without. 
THE  FOURTH  WATCHER  :     He  is  here. 

(T£TE-D'OR  enters. 

65 


T^TE-D'OR 

THE  KING   (advancing  to  meet  him}  :     You  have  pre- 
served this  kingdom, 
The  men  that  work,  the  women  that  bear  children,  and 

the  fields  that  yield  food. 
You  have  given  a  second  birth  to  everything. 
Young  man,  I  greet  you  with  the  name  of  Father. 
May  blessings  gather  on  your  beloved  head. 
Enter,  conquering  hero, 

Welcome  to  this  hearth  and  to  this  shadowy  hall  al- 
most bereft  of  light, 
And  first  I  salute  you  as  is  fitting. 

(He  bows  before  him. 
(All  come  and  one  after  the  other  bow  before 

him. 
Hail! 
TETE-D'OR  :     I  thank  you,  Sire. 

I  thank  you  all.    Who  am  I  ?    What  have  I  done  ? 
That  which  must  be  already  exists.     From  whom  is 

this  knowledge  hidden  ? 
(To  CEBES)  And  you,  will  you  not  give  me  a  word  of 

welcome,  thus  happily  returned? 
CEBES:     O  Tete-d'or! 
TETE-D'OR  :     Find  an  excuse !     Pretend  that  you  still  are 

sick! 

CEBES  :     Stay  here  with  me.     I  want  to  talk  to  you. 
TETE-D'OR  :     He  wants  to  talk  to  me. 
THE  KING:     Do  you  wish  us  to  withdraw? 
TETE-D'OR  :     Do  this  for  me. 

Do  this  for  me,  my  friends !     I  ask  your  pardon. 
You  shall  hear  what  I  have  to  say  to  you  presently. 

( They  all  go  out. 

TETE-D'OR:     Well,   Cebes,   here  I   am!     The   same   as 
ever! 

66 


ACT  II 

I  come  again,  having  conquered! 
CEBES:     By  these  victorious  hands,  dear  friend! 
TETE-D'OR  :     Give  me  a  brotherly  welcome. 

( They  embrace. 

CEBES:     O  man  with  the  power  to  conquer! 
TETE-D'OR:     I  bayed  at  their  heels!     I  made  them  rise 

from  the  dung  in  which  they  sat. 
Then  I  saw  that  what  I  wished  for  was. 
CEBES:     But  how? 
TETE-D'OR  :     I  am  telling  you !     I  was  more  firm  on  my 

horse  than  on  a  rock. 
— But  I  wanted  to  talk  with  you  and  there  you  are  still 

in  your  bed. 

CEBES  :     Do  not  pity  me. 
TETE-D'OR:     Are  you  feeling  better? 
CEBES  :     Because  I  am  not  worth  your  trouble,  hero ! 
TETE-D'OR  :     You  do  not  render  me  a  true  account. 

Am  I  not  your  tutor?     Do  you  think  that  all  I  have 
done  can  go  for  naught?    Was  it  in  vain,  that  adop- 
tion that  bound  us  so  close  together  on  that  night 
of ,  sorrow? 
And  are  you  not  mine  ? 

(Silence. 
Eh? 

CEBES:     Well? 
TETE-D'OR  :     What  ? 
CEBES  :     Nothing. 
TETE-D'OR  :     You  twist  the  chain  of  my  sword  but  do  not 

speak. 

CEBES:     Tete-d'or  .  .  . 
TETE-D'OR:     Well? 

(Silence. 

CEBES:     Did  you  bring  back  your  army  with  you? 

67 


TftTE-D'OR 

TETE-D'OR  :     Yes,  it  is  close  behind  me. 
CEBES:     You  have  gained  the  victory!     You  knew  how 
to  command  all  these  men  according  to  their  corps 
and  their  battalion,  and  they  obeyed  you ! 
TETE-D'OR  :     Yes,  for  I  saw  and  knew. 
CEBES:     What? 

TETE-D'OR  :     My  opportunity  and  how  to  seize  it. 
The  eyes  and  the  brain  cry  at  the  selfsame  instant : 
"This  thing  must  be !"     I  take  that  which  is  due  me. 
CEBES  :     And  I,  I  do  not  see  and  do  not  know ! 
What  could  I  have  done? 
Yet  I  am  wise  though  in  one  thing  only. 
TETE-D'OR:     Which  is? 
CEBES:     Will  it  bore  you  if  I  tell  you  everything?     Or 

shall  I  speak  freely 
As  to  the  man  in  whom 
I  have  put  my  trust  ? 
TETE-D'OR:     In  what  thing? 
CEBES  (very  low)  :     To  give 
Myself. 

But  to  give  myself  to  whom?    Not 
To  one  as  weak  as  I  am. 
Nothing  imperfect  can  satisfy  me  for  I  do  not  satisfy 

myself. 

So  I  seek  a  man  who  is  perfectly  just  and  true, 
That  he  may  be  perfectly  good  and  I  may  love  him. 
I  am  only  a  child,  Tete-d'or,  but  I  tell  you  I  have 

within  me 

A  thing  older  than  I, 

And  it  has  its  own  secret  source  and  seeks  its  own  end, 
in  spite  of  my  sodden  intellect  and  unsure  senses, 
and  it  makes  my  life  bitter. 

But  I  open  my  eyes  and  see  the  sun  as  it  rises  and  sets, 

68 


ACT  II 

And  nature,  and  I  find  no  happiness  there.    And  I  see 

other  men  and  they  are  like  myself. 
To  which  of  them  shall  I  speak?    I  shall  speak  to  him 

and  he  will  make  reply. 
Each  cries,  "Like  us  you  must  pay  for  the  right  to  be 

alive!"     But  as  I  say  I  have  no  handicraft, 
I  can  only  pay  with  myself. 
And  all  men  are  full  of  faults, 
— But  you,  do  you  think  that  such  a  man  exists? 
TETE-D'OR  :     You  lay  your  hand  on  an  old  wound ! — He 

exists. 
CEBES  :     He  exists  then. 

But  which  of  us  speaks  and  is  not  understood? 
Has  he  rejected  me,  or  am  I  in  any  way  to  blame? 
I  bear  witness  to  the  Truth 
That  there  is  nothing  here  I  am  not  ready  to  leave 

behind  as  one  rises  from  a  chair. 
But  I  see  a  fly,  a  plant,  a  stone,  yet  him  I  do  not  see. 
And  if  I  do  not  find  him  why  have  my  eyes  been  dow- 
ered with  the  faculty  of  seeing,  and  my  hands  with 

fingers  as  if  they  saw ! 

For  I  raise  my  hands  and  move  them  here  and  there  I 
And  will  someone  speak  of  self-control  and  of  works 

of  betterment  by  which  the  noble  man  consecrates 

himself  like  a  temple? 
I  do  not  care  to  be  loved.     But  I  know  how  to  love 

and  I  would  see  and  have ! 
And  against  these  sure  desires  there  is  only  a  vague 

perhaps. 
And  why  will  it  later  be  otherwise?     For  I  am  made 

of  flesh  and  blood,  as  my  mother  made  me. 
TETE-D'OR:     What  is  it?    You  look  at  me  strangely  and 

there  is  something  in  you  that  I  do  not  recognise. 


TETE-D'OR 

CEBES:     You  have  come,  O  Conqueror, 

To  all  the  rest  like  the  promise  of  a  future  of  happy 

days! 

For  me  alone  you  bring  no  rescue ! 
TETE-D'OR:     What  do  you  mean? 
CEBES  (lying  down  again)  :     I  am  dying. 
TETE-D'OR:     What  did  you  say? 

CEBES:     What  the  doctors  told  me,  and  it  is  the  truth. 
TETE-D'OR  :     No ! 
CEBES  :     I  shall  not  live  through  another  night.     I  shall 

not  live  till  noon. 
TETE-D'OR:     No!    No! 
CEBES:     It  is  not  the  pain  that  I  fear,  and  the  cramps, 

and  the  horrible  struggle  to  vomit, 
When  my  mouth  is  filled  with  bile  and  blood  and  the 
sweat   pours   out   of  my   body  like   water   from   a 
sponge. 

This  I  can  bear,  for  my  heart  is  stout,  and  I  shall  look 

in  your  face,  my  brother,  in  the  hour  of  my  torture. 

Why  was  I  born?    For  I  die  and  then  I  shall  exist  no 

more. 

The  shadows  had  closed  about  me  so  that  I  slept  in 
darkness  and  woke  in  darkness.    And  I  saw  nothing; 
and  I  was  deaf  and  heard  no  sound. 
For  I  am  like  a  man  buried  alive,  and  I  am  confined  as 

in  an  oven! 
Give  me  light !     Give  me  light !    Give  me  light !    Give 

me  light !     For  I  would  see ! 
Give  me  air,  for  I  stifle ! 
Give  me  to  drink,  for  I  do  not  want  the  water  that 

they  bring  me. 

But  you,  give  me  water  to  drink,  that  I  may  die  in 
peace,  for  I  am  consumed  with  thirst! 

70 


ACT  II 

0  brother !    I  have  put  my  trust  in  you  !    Will  you  not 
help  me?     I  beg  you,  soldier,  head  of  gold,  O  my 
bright-haired  brother! 

TETE-D'OR:     Oh!    That  I  could  do  as  does  the  eagle, 
Who,  letting  fall  a  useless  prey,  perishes  in  his  ravaged 

eyrie ! 

Why  did  you  cross  my  path? 
Why,  like  pride,  having  kneeled  before  me,  did  you 

clasp  me  in  your  arms  like  a  tree  or  a  fountain  ? 
On  my  heart,  he  pressed  his  face  against  this  throbbing 

regret ! 
And  again  he  asks  my  help  in  the  hour  of  his  death ! 

1  do  not  understand!     I  have  done  my  best 

And  I  have  turned  my  steps  towards  that  house  of  sin, 
And  I  thought  that,  having  renounced  all  selfish  hope, 
To-day  I  would  work  with  my  hands. 
You  speak  of  desire,  the  necessity  of  the  present  hour 

constrains  me ! 
The  rapacious  desire  drags  me  forward  through  this 

place  of  horror. 
And  he  asks,  and  I  cannot  reply  to  this  poor  luckless 

child,  and  he  is  dying  before  my  eyes ! 
CEBES:     You  weep?    Is  that  your  only  answer? 
TETE-D'OR  :     I  beg  you 

To  leave  me  alone  and  not  to  question  me.     What  do 

you  want  of  me?     Shall  I  hide  you  in  my  belly  and 

give  birth  to  you  again? 
It  is  most  horrible 
That  you  should  draw  these  woman's  tear-drops  from 

me. 

You  question  me  and,  like  a  brutish  thing, 
I  can  reply  only  by  these  vain  waters ! 
CEBES:     You  shall  not  escape  me  thus.     Answer  and  I 


T£TE-D'OR 

will  question  you.     For  you  are  my  teacher  and  must 
answer  me. 

Answer !     When  a  man  dies  does  something  still  sur- 
vive ? 

TETE-D'OR  :     Be  still,  and  try  me  no  more. 
CEBES:     Answer!     Is  there  an  end  of  the  personality? 
For  as  for  the  bodily  form  we  know  that  it  dis- 
appears. 

TETE-D'OR:     I  answer  that  man  has  been  conceived  ac- 
cording to  the  flesh. 
CEBES:     And  to  die  is  not  to  escape? 
TETE-D'OR:     This  world  was  made  for  man  and  a  limit 

was  set  about  him, 
That  he  might  not  escape  and  that  no  one  might  enter 

in. 

CEBES:     Then  I  shall  die  and  shall  no  longer  exist? 
TETE-D'OR:     I  will  tell  you  what  I  know  when  I  do  not 

know  it. 
And  my  answer  is  silence,  and  the  breath  that  blows 

from  the  open  and  black  abyss. 
You  did  not  breathe  in  the  days  when  you  lay  in  the 

womb  of  your  mother, 

But  her  blood  entered  into  your  body  and  flowed  in 
you  and  your  heart  was  moored  to  her  heart  through 
the  middle  of  your  belly, 
And  having  come  out  of  her  you  breathed  and  uttered 

a  cry! 

I  also  have  uttered  a  cry, 
A  cry  like  a  babe  new-born,  and  I  have  drawn  the  keen 

and  burning  sword,  and  have  beheld 
Humanity  divide  before  me  like  the  separation  of  the 
waters! 

72 


ACT  II 

And  now  I  return  to  you  and  find  you  in  the  lassitude 

of  death! 

Must  everyone  that  I  love  die  and  leave  me  alone? 
Must  you  wither  in  my  hands  like   a   flower  of  the 

stream  before  I  had  asked  "Who  are  you?"   and 

you  had  answered  me? 
Pit  of  weariness!     Horror  in  which  I  stand!     Is  there 

someone  here? 
Is  there  something  stable  here?     Who  will  carve  a 

letter  upon  the  face  of  the  Mountain? 
We  can  eat;  we  can  lay  a  dish  before  ourselves  and 

feed; 
But  the  gravel  sets  our  teeth  on  edge  and  ever  from 

our  eyes  there  flow  invisible  tears. 
Then  go  to  the  common  home !    And  now  I  say  to  you, 
Hope  not  to  still  survive,  being  dead, 
For  how  can  any  man  see  without  his  eyes,  and  how 

else  will  he  be  able 
To  grasp  than  with  his  hands? 
CEDES:     If  this  is  so, 

0  my  body  you  have  been  of  little  worth, 
For  you  die  and  I  must  die  along  with  you. 

1  shall  die  like  a  four-footed  beast,  and  shall  exist  no 
more. 

Why  then  has  it  been  given  to  me  to  know  this? 
(He  begins  to  scream.}     Ah!     Ah! 
TETE-D'OR:     Yes,  cry! 
CEBES:     Night!     O  Night! 
TETE-D'OR:     The  night  is  vast  and  wide,  and  the  sun  is 

lost  in  it, 
And  the  silence,  that  no  voice  breaks  nor  any  word, 

endures. 
CEBES:     Forever  and  ever ! 

73 


T£TE-D'OR 

TETE-D'OR:     Cry!     Cry! 

CEBES  :     As  for  you,  you  live.     You  live  and  you  watch 

me  dying  at  your  feet !     Oh !    Oh ! 
O  Tete-d'or,  can't  you  do  anything  for  me?     For  I 

suffer! 
TETE-D'OR  (changing  his  tone}  :     Do  not  be  afraid!     I 

am  here !     Do  not  be  afraid 
To  die.    All  is  vanity  and  nothingness. 
CEBES  :     Do  not  go !    Be  my  nurse !    Stay  here.    Let  me 

be  with  you 
A  little  longer.     Do  not  be  disgusted  with  me  because 

I  die. 
TETE-D'OR:     Look,  I  hold  your  hand.     What  was  it  I 

said  just  now? 
Come !     Death  is  nothing.     Smile !     Won't  you  smile 

for  me? 

CEBES  :     Alone ! 
TETE-D'OR:     What's  that? 
CEBES:     Alone  .  .  . 

TETE-D'OR:     Alone?    What  are  you  saying? 
CEBES:     .  .  .  I  die! 
TETE-D'OR  :     Am  I  not  with  you  ? 
CEBES:     Alone  I  die! 

For  I  do  not  know  who  I  am  and  I  flee  away  and 

vanish  like  a  spring  that  disappears ! 
Then  why  do  you  say  that  you  love  me  ?    Why  do  you 

lie? 

For  who  can  love  me 
Since  I  cease  to  be  when  my  body  dies? 
A  bitter  indignation  boils  within  me ! 
My  bowels  bloat !     I  am  racked  with  fearful  retchings 
That  strive  to  rive  apart  the  fastening  of  my  bones  I 

74 


ACT  II 

Alone  I  die !     And  I  pant  in  vain  for  breath  and  there 

is  something  in  me  that  is  not  satisfied; 
More   alone   than   the   strangled   babe   that   its   mur- 
derous mother  buries  at  the  bottom  of  a  dunghill, 
Among  the  broken  dishes  and  dead  cats,  in  earth  that 
is  full  of  fat  pink  worms ! 

(He  tries  to  get  up. 

TETE-D'OR:     What  are  you  doing?    Stay  where  you  are! 
Come,  you  cannot  get  out  of  bed! 

(He  holds  him  back. 
CEBES:     I  want  to  get  up,  to  walk  again!     Oh!     I  can 

live! 

Leave  me  alone !    Let  go  of  me ! 
TETE-D'OR:     Stay  where  you  are!   Are  you  mad?   Don't 

you  recognise  me? 
What  would  you  do? 
CEBES:     Will  you  not  let  me  go,  wretched  man!     O 

coward ! 

I  hate  you — O  the  great  beast,  he  holds  me! 
— Will  you  not  let  me  go ! 

(He  bites  his  hand,  frees  himself,  struggles  to 
his  feet  and  falls.  TETE-D'OR  puts  him  back 
on  his  bed. 

TETE-D'OR  :    You  see ! 
CEBES  (screaming}  :     Ho,  ho,  ho! 
TETE-D'OR:     Be  quiet!    Calm  yourself ! 
CEBES  (streaming}  :     Ho! 
TETE-D'OR:     You  turn  my  heart  to  ice!     Do  not  howl 

like  a  wolf  in  this  unholy  night ! 
CEBES:     Oh!    O  God! 
TETE-D'OR  :     Cebes ! 
CEBES  :     Let  me  alone ! 
TETE-D'OR:     Have  you  forgotten  .  .  . 

75 


TftTE-D'OR 

CEBES  :     Leave  me ! 

(His  mouth  still  open,  he  slowly  lays  his  head 
on   his  pillow.      Then    he   begins   to   smile. 
Pause. 
Tete-d'or,  there  are  many  kinds  of  men,  the  weak  and 

the  strong,  the  sick  and  the  well. 
I  pity  them;  the  incompetent  and  the  stammering,  the 

poor  of  spirit  and  those  that  ask  for  alms 
With  the  deprecating  smile  that  masks  the  shudder  of 

shame  behind. 
And  those  that  are  mocked  and  cannot  make  reply, 

and  cowards, 
And  those  who  from  the  darkness  of  their  souls  exhale 

a  prayer  devoid  of  savor! 
And  you,  do  you  not  also  pity  me  ? 
And  I  say  to  you  like  that  woman 

When  she  lay  at  the  roadside  in  the  shadow  of  death; 
"Why  do  you  let  me  die?" 
TETE-D'OR:     Take  me  with  you  if  you  wish!     Do  you 

.think  that  I  am  not  weary? 
Groaning,  I  strove  to  tear  myself  from  those  strong 

and  bony  hands. 
And  now  you  weep  and  would  bring  me  again  to  that 

terrible  repose ! 
The  wind  ruffles  my  hair  and  the  heartbreak  of  the 

earth  lies  stark  and  bare  before  my  despairing  eyes ! 

And  I  look  and  am  filled  with  shame ! 
O  the  fate  of  the  bee  and  the  fly  whose  life  lasts  only 

a  season  and  endures  but  a  single  day! 
And  the  birds  of  the  wood  are  also  alive;  and  the 

caterpillar  that  crawls  on  the  leaf  and  the  broom 

that  roots  in  the  sand, 

76 


ACT  II 

And  the   ravening  beast   and  the   thistle  with  purple 

flowers ! 

And  you,  who  are  dying,  you  counsel  me  to  die ! 
I  cannot  loose  my  limbs  from  these  tough  ligatures  I 

0  world  I     O  self !     O  shameful  destiny! 
Let  me  be  iron  and  like  a  thing  of  wood! 

CEBES:     What  hope  .  .  . 
TETE-D'OR  :     I  look  at  you  and  is  it  thus  you  lie ! 
CEBES  :     Come,  let's  not  talk  of  it.     Things  are  better 
than  you  think.     But,  tell  me  ... 

1  do  not  understand  .  .  .  you   follow  me  ...  eh? 
What  inner  pride,  what  secret  flame  .   .   . 

TETE-D'OR:     Neither  do  I,  I  do  not  understand!     I  am 

tired ! 
You   speak   of   hidden   things   that   the   thick   tongue 

shudders  to  say, 
Tales  with  no  basis  of  reason,  blood  that  flows  like 

saliva ! 
A    little    word    of    consolation    watches    beneath    all 

wretchedness, 
Sweet  forget-me-not  of  fire  that  lights  us  mournfully 

with  its  faithful  gleam! 

— Beyond  the  silence  a  voice  like  the  human  voice 
Spoke  to  my  soul  and  it  melted  and  flowed  like  iron  in 

the  foundry! 
Still  it  resounds!     That  fervent  hope  warms  us  again 

like  coffee ! 

0  glowing  geranium !     O  clot  of  sunlight !     It  throbs ! 
It  bleeds  like  a  fragment  of  living  flesh ! 

For  there  is  a  force  and  a  spirit  in  me 
Like  the  bellows  blowing  on  iron  in  the  fire. 

1  beg  of  you,  do  not  ask  me  anything  more ! 
CEBES  :     Yet  it  must  be. 

77 


TJiTE-D'OR 

— Mother,  my  brother!     O  nurse  with  sides  capari- 
soned in  steel ! 
TETE-D'OR  :     Well  ? 
CEBES:     O  brother,  so  at  the  last  you  have  found  no 

word  to  tell  me !    Ah  well, 
I,  I  have  something  to  tell  to  you. 
TETE-D'OR  :     What  ? 
CEBES:     It  has  not  been  permitted  that  I  should  die  in 

such  despair!     And  now  I  am  beyond  all  pain, 
And  it  troubles  me  no  more.    Tete-d'or! 
TETE-D'OR:     What,  brother? 

CEBES:  Take  me  in  your  arms  and  hold  me,  for  there 
is  no  longer  any  strength  in  me.  And  put  me  on 
your  shoulder  like  an  armful  of  leafy  branches. 
O  Tete-d'or!  you  have  baptised  me  with  your  blood. 
Now  like  a  babe  I  lie  upon  your  breast  and  pour 
forth  on  your  bosom  all  myself, 

For  every  tie  is  dissolved  and  I   am  like  a  severed 
branch. 

(TETE-D'OR  takes  CEBES  in  his  arms. 
TETE-D'OR  :     Thus  in  my  turn  I  take  you  in  my  arms. 
CEBES:     They  say 

That  if  in  the  midst  of  his  path  through  a  dreary  soli- 
tude, 
Of  a  sudden  the  wanderer  halts  at  the  summons  of  his 

heart, 
It  is  love,  that  locks  the  man  and  woman  in  agonised 

embrace. 
They  do  not  recognise  themselves  and  the  lover  feels 

a  pang  like  the  stab  of  a  knife  beneath  his  ribs, 
And  invents  those  phrases  that  begin  with  O, 
Imitating   the    piercing   cries    of   sea-birds,    for   their 
silence  is  like  the  peace  of  the  waters. 

78 


ACT  II 

TETE-D'OR  :     What  have  you  to  say  to  me  ? 

CEBES:     O  Tete-d'or!     I  am  not  a  woman  and  neither 

am  I  a  man, 
For  I  am  not  of  age,  and  I  am  already  as  if  I  were  no 

more. 

TETE-D'OR:     Who  are  you  then? 
CEBES:     O  Tete-d'or,  all  pain  is  past! 

The  snare  is  broken  and  I  am  free!     I  am  the  plant 

that  has  been  uprooted  from  the  earth! 
There  is  a  joy  that  comes  with  man's  last  hour.     That 
joy  am  I  and  the  secret  that  can  no  longer  be  told. 
O  Tete-d'or,  I  give  myself  to  you  and  deliver  myself 
into  your  hands !     So  hold  me  while  I  am  with  you. 
TETE-D'OR:     O  Cebes,  whom  thus  I  have  taken  in  my 
arms,  I  will  question  you  in  my  turn.     Hand  yearns 
to  hand 
And  mouth  to  mouth,  yet  never  do  they  meet,  for  an 

invisible  barrier  lies  between. 
That  is  the  pang  of  love  through  which  it  is  like  the 

water  that  boils  and  disappears. 
CEBES  :     Then  love  me  more  for  I  scarcely  can  be  called 

a  living  man. 

And  I  am  like  a  bird  that  one  seizes  on  the  wing. 
TETE-D'OR:     O  brother,  I  have  jealously  taken  from  you 
the  woman  you  loved.     And  you  would  have  been 
happy  with  her.     But  it  was  destined  that  your  love 
should  be  given  to  none  but  me. 
Brother!     Child! 
O  all  the  tenderness  of  my  heart,  I  have  taken  you 

between  my  hands ! 

O  burden!     O  sacrifice  that  I  bear  in  my  arms  like  a 
sheep  whose  feet  are  bound  together ! 

79 


TfiTE-D'OR 

Shall  I  call  you  my  child  or  my  brother?  For  I  am 
more  mindful  of  you 

Than  a  father  would  have  been  of  that  pallid  little 
face.  And  my  heart  is  attached  to  yours  by  a 
stronger  and  sweeter  tie 

Than  that  which  binds  a  brother  to  his  little  brother 
in  the  nursery  when  he  plays  with  him  in  the  eve- 
ning, and  lulls  him  to  sleep  with  stories  and  helps 
in  taking  off  his  shoes. 

0  my  friend  that  I  have  found  in  the  gloom,  are  you 
going  to  abandon  me  and  leave  me  all  alone? 

CEBES:     O  Tete-d'or,  as  you  gave  yourself  to  me 
Even  so  I  give  myself  to  you, 
And  as  you  did  not  trust  your  secret  to  me, 
Neither  shall  I  entrust  to  you  mine. 

1  am  strangely  light  and  like  a  thing  that  can  no  longer 

be  held. 

(He  kisses  him  on  the  cheek. 
Good-bye ! 
And  now  put  me  back  on  my  bed. 

(Meanwhile    the    first    faint    signs    of    dawn 

appear. 

TETE-D'OR:    The  day! 
CEBES:     The  chilly  violet  of  dawn 

Glances  across  the  distant  plains,   tinting  each  track 

and  rut  with  its  glamor! 
And  in  the  silent  farms  the  roosters  cry 
Cock-a-doodle-doo ! 
It  is  the  hour  when  the  traveller,  huddled  among  the 

cushions  of  his  coach, 

Awakes,  and  peers  through  the  pane,  and  coughs,  and 
sighs, 

80 


ACT  II 

And  souls  new-born  in  the  shadows  of  walls  and  for- 
ests, 

Uttering  feeble  cries  like  little  naked  birds, 
Fly  back  again,   guided  by  flaring  meteors,   into  the 

regions  of  obscurity. 
— What  is  the  hour? 
TETE-D'OR:     The  night  is  over. 
CEBES  :     It  is  over ! — And  the  daybreak  that  kindles  the 

sea  to  flame  and  with  far-reaching  fires 
Colors  the  roofs  and  the  towered  gateways  once  again 

is  born. 

I  feel  the  freshness  of  the  breeze.    Open  the  window ! 

(TETE-D'OR  opens  it. 
(Prolonged  silence. 
TETE-D'OR:     Can  you  hear  me? 

(Pause.    CEBES  turns  his  eyes  towards  him  and 

faintly  smiles. 
TETE-D'OR:     Can  you  hear  me  still? 

"Put  the  table  under  the  tree  for  we  shall  eat  out  of 

doors." — How  beautiful  the  night  is! 
O  Cebes,  everything  is  hushed  and  there  is  no  voice 

to  break  the  stillness. 

And  like  the  smell  of  the  cupboard  in  which  the  bread 
is  kept  and  like  the  breath  of  the  oven  when  the 
door  of  it  is  opened, 

There  lies  before  us  the  plenty  of  the  fields. 
It  is  night.     The  meadow  is  thick  with  harvest  and 

far  away  one  can  almost  hear 
The  swish  of  the  scythe  in  the  lush  grass. 
Already  the  fires  of  the  routed  stars  are  paling. 
And  the  nightingale  who  sings  at  intervals 
When  the  ascension  of  the  starry  heavens  above  the 
earth  begins  .  .   . 

81 


TftTE-D'OR 

(He  stops. — CEBES  is  dead. 
(TETE-D'OR  remains  motionless  for  an  instant, 
then  he  lays  down  the  body,  shuddering. 

Oh,  horrible ! 

(He  sits  down. 

I  am  alone.     I  am  cold. 

What  difference  does  it  make? 

Indeed  it  matters  little  that  he  is  dead. 

Why  should  we  mourn?  Why  should  we  be  discon- 
certed by  anything  that  may  happen? 

What  man  of  sense  would  lend  himself  to  such  buf- 
foonery ? 

He  who  bursts  into  tears  and  whose  head  is  bowed 
with  his  sobbing 

Will  pucker  his  face  into  the  same  wrinkles  when  he 
is  roaring  with  laughter.  Thus  they  bawl  and  con- 
tort their  mouths.  Puppets! 

— He  is  dead  and  I  am  alone. — 

Am  I  of  stone?  The  leaves  of  the  trees  seem  made 
of  cloth  or  iron 

And  all  outdoors  is  a  painted  scene  to  be  looked  at  or 
not  at  one's  pleasure. 

And  this  sun,  whose  earliest  rays  formerly  made  me 
resound 

Like  a  stone  that  clangs  against  bronze,  why,  let  it 
rise! 

I  would  as  soon  see  the  lung  of  a  cow  that  floats  at  the 
door  of  a  slaughter-house ! 

Yes,  and  like  an  insensible  trunk  of  coral, 

I  could  see  my  limbs  drop  from  me. 

Why  should  I  live?  I  have  no  concern  with  life.  I 
find  no  pleasure  in  existence.  This  is  not  good  for 
me! 

82 


ACT  II  

(He  rises. 
To-day  I 
To-day  has  come  and  I  must  show  who  I  am !    There 

is  myself  to  think  of !    It  must  be  done ! 
Alone  against  them  all!     I  will  march  forward  and  I 
will  maim  with  the  blow   of   an   armored  fist  the 
slimy  muzzle  of  bestiality! 

I  will  speak  before  this  assembly  of  slovens  and  cow- 
ards.    And  either  I  will  perish  at  their  hands  or  I 
will  found  my  appointed  empire ! 
Hola!    Hola!    Hola! 

(He  leans  against  the  wall. 
( Tremendous  hubbub  outside.  Slamming  of 
doors.  Calls  on  the  stairs.  Enter  a  great 
crowd  of  people.  Prominent  among  them  is 
the  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE.  Three  or 
four  women  accompany  him.  He  is  sur- 
rounded with  people  who  jostle  him  and 
shake  hands  with  him.  Beside  him,  carry- 
ing his  overcoat,  is  the  GO-BETWEEN.  In  the 
group  are  the  HIGH  PREFECT,  the  SCHOOL- 
MASTER, and  other  public  officials.  Also 
the  BROTHER  OF  THE  KING.  Among  the 
others  is  the  KING  to  whom  no  one  pays  the 
slightest  attention.  Those  representing  the 
people  are  dumb  actors.  Enter  after  every- 
one else  the  MAN  OUT  OF  OFFICE.  He  holds 
himself  apart  with  three  or  four  ill-dressed 
people.  No  one  appears  to  notice  the  pres- 
ence of  TETE-D'OR,  although  all  keep  a  cer- 
tain distance  away  from  him. 
( The  hall  is  filed  in  a  moment  and  through  the 
open  door  one  can  see  people  crowding  the 

83 


TfiTE-D'OR 

vestibule  and  lining  the  stairs  and  climbing 
on  benches  to  see  better.  All  talk  at  once. 
Noise  of  many  feet. 

THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  (speaking  and  laughing 
very  loudly,  in  sudden  outbursts]  :  Ah,  well,  yes,  it 
is  I,  here  I  am. — Good  morning,  old  fellow. — Eh? — 
Good  morning. — Perfectly  mad  about  me,  aren't 
you !  Just  can't  get  along  without  me !  Oh !  Oh ! 
Oh! — What's  that,  my  dear? — Good  morning, — 
Yes,  sir! — Don't  eat  me.  There  is  something  for 
everyone  !  Ouf !  Good  morning ! — Make  room  for 
me,  I  am  far  from  small! 
THE  MAN  OUT  OF  OFFICE  (in  his  group,  feverishly}  : 

Pig! 
That's  right!     Go  on!     Keep  it  up!     Play  with  your 

good  moment! 
Hmmm!    We  shall  see!    We  shall  see! 

(He  rubs  his  hands. 

What  has  he  done  with  the  funds  of  the  commissariat? 
And  how  about  the  automatic  guns?     I  shall  attack 

him  before  the  assembly.     We  shall  see! 
Look  how  he   plumes  himself!      See  how  he   struts 

among  those  nanny-goats ! 

SOMEONE  (of  his  following,  in  a  low  voice}  :     Do  you 

know  the  story  about  him  and  the  wife  of  the  High 

Prefect?     He  had  set  up  an  establishment  with  the 

wife  of  the  Paymaster-General, 

And  the  other  trollop  came  to  join  them.     Such  scenes 

as  they  had! 

A  .CITIZEN  (loudly  to  the  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE)  : 
Sir,  you  have  saved  the  State! 

(He  presses  his  hand. 
THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  :     Don't  say  that !    I  love 

84 


ACT  II 

my  country,  Sir!      (Very  loudly)   I  did  not  despair 
of  my  country! 
The  people  did  it  all. 
THE  CITIZEN  :     All  the  same  I  say  it  was  you !    You  did 

the  organizing! 
It  isn't  the  soldiers  who  win  the  battles.     You  did  the 

organizing. 
ALL  THE  WOMEN  (together)  :     It  is  true ! 

(Nodding  of  heads. 

MURMUR  (in  the  crowd,  spreading  to  the  stairways)  :  It 
is  true. 

(Uproar  outside. 
What  is  that? 

THE  GO-BETWEEN  (excitedly) :  The  whole  city  is 
roused.  They  are  all  clamoring  for  you.  You 
must  speak  to  them  from  the  balcony. 

(He  talks  to  him  in  a  low  voice. 

(Someone  passes  a  paper  to  the  TRIBUNE  OF 

THE    PEOPLE.      The   GO-BETWEEN   reads   it 

over  his  shoulder. 

.CLAMOR     (outside)  :      Jacquot!      Jacquot!      Jacquot! 

Jacquot !     Jacquot !     Hurrah ! 

THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  :  Say  that  I  am  going  to 
speak  to  them ! 

( The  GO-BETWEEN  goes  out  on  to  the  balcony. 
He  can  be  seen  bending  over  the  rail  and 
waving  his  arms.  The  TRIBUNE  OF  THE 
PEOPLE  takes  the  arm  of  the  HIGH  PREFECT 
and  walks  across  the  hall  with  him,  talking 
and  gesturing. 

THE  MAN  OUT  OF  OFFICE:     See  them!    Not  him! 
His  Excellency  the  High  Prefect!     Serious  as  a  teth- 
ered ass ! 

85 


T£TE-D'OR 

Did  you  know  that  he  writes  verses  in  secret? 
THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE   (pointing  sideways  at 

TETE-D'OR  with  his  chin)  :     Eh? 
THE  HIGH  PREFECT    (authoritatively)  :     Don't   alarm 

yourself ! 

THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  :     Tell  me,  Albert  .  .  . 
THE  HIGH  PREFECT:     Don't  alarm  yourself.     All  this 

is  absurd! 

He  has  profited  by  the  .   .  . 
Shall  I  say  the  enervation?  in  which  we  were.     One 

does  not  like  that,  once  the  panic  is  past. 
He  has  overtaxed  the  people  outrageously ! 
He  is  an  adventurer, 
A  fellow  picked  off  the  streets!     And  as  haughty  as 

a  god! 
None  are  allowed  to  touch  him  and  if  any  approach 

too  near, 
Men  or  women,  he  fetches  them  a  rap  on  the  head  with 

his  stick. 

The  people  know  their  friends. 

THE  GO-BETWEEN   (making  a  gesture  with  his  arm}  : 
This  way! 

( The  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  goes  out  on  the 
balcony  and  is  seen  speaking  in  the  glow  of 
the  dawn. 

(Bursts  of  applause  from  time  to  time.     Up- 
roar in   the   hall.      Groups  form   here   and 
there,  one  of  them  around  the  bed  of  CEBES. 
Noise  of  a  breaking  pane  in  the  upper  story. 
( The  GO-BETWEEN  speaks  excitedly  to  the  MAN 

OUT  OF  OFFICE  and  his  group. 

A  CITIZEN  (all  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  hall,  contem- 

86 


ACT  II 

plating  the  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE)  :     What  a 
man!    What  a  bag  of  wind! 

(The  TRIBUNE  OF  TFIE  PEOPLE,  smiling,  re- 
enters  the  hall,  and  looking  about  for  the 
KING,  he  finds  him  and  leads  him  out  on  to 
the  balcony.  He  is  seen  to  speak,  patting  the 
KING  on  the  shoulder. 

THE  GO-BETWEEN  (who  stands  near  the  HIGH  PREFECT, 
glancing  quickly  and  furtively  in  all  directions,  and 
especially  towards  TETE-D'OR)  (to  the  HIGH  PRE- 
FECT in  a  low  voice)  :  What  do  you  think  of  him, 
eh? 

THE  HIGH  PREFECT:  Hmm!  He  has  the  army  back 
of  him ! 

(The  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  re-enters  the 
hall  with  the  KING. 

(Little  by  little  a  silence  falls. 

SOMEONE  (in  a  low  voice)  :  Why  are  there  no  lights? 
The  dawn  makes  us  look  hideous. 

( The  silence  has  become  complete.  All  keep 
their  eyes  fixed  on  TETE-D'OR. 

(Pause. 

SOMEONE  (near  CEBES)  :     He  is  dead. 
TETE-D'OR  (turning  towards  the  assembly)  :      Who  says 

that  he  is  dead? 

SOMEONE:  He  is  paler  than  any  of  us  and  his  lips  are 
discolored. 

( The  crowd  recoils,  leaving  the  KING,  with  his 
brother  beside  him,  in  front,  opposite  TETE- 
D'OR.  To  the  right  and  behind  the  KING,  the 

HIGH   PREFECT,   the  SCHOOLMASTER   and  the 

other  officials  of  the  Government,  to  the  left 

the  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE,  the  MAN  OUT 
8? 


TfiTE-D'OR 

OF  OFFICE.     A  young  man,  with  the  group 
of  women,  stands  close  to  TETE-D'OR. 
TETE-D'OR  :     Is  it  yet  day  ? 
THE  YOUNG  MAN  :     Day  ? 
A  WOMAN  :     The  sun  is  rising. 
TETE-D'OR  :     It  rises ! 

— The  pallid  morn  illumines  the  mud  of  the  roads, 
And  under  the   hedges   the   cabbage   leaves   and  the 

flowers 

Pour  on  the  tawny  earth  their  burden  of  rain. 
Those  who  are  dead  depart,  and  those  who  are  living 
Must  stand  before  the  world  and  confess  their  o'er- 

burdened  souls. 
I  stand  alone  and  wounded. 
THE  KING:     This  child  is  dead? 
TETE-D'OR  :     He  is  dead. 

(The  KING  drops  his  head  on  his  breast. 
Yes,  that  sight  is  bitterer  than  sourest  herbs!     Oh! 
I  was  for  him  as  Athens  was  for  Argos, 
Yet  I  shall  bear  this  also  and  my  patient  heart  shall 

not  be  shaken 

For  now  I  must  proclaim  myself  to  all. 
— O  soul,  farewell,  enter  before  us  into  the  splendor 
of  Noon! 

(Pause. 

A  FAT  WOMAN  (of  about  fifty  standing  near  TETE-D'OR, 
in  a  loud  voice)  :     Speak,  general,  what  have  you  to 
say? 
TETE-D'OR:     What  is  this  woman  doing  here?     Clear 

the  hall  of  these  females ! 

Who  let  loose  these  mares  upon  me !     Out !     Off  with 
you !     Begone ! 

(The  women  go  out. 


_ ACT  II 

As  for  you,  I  scarcely  know  who  you  are  or  what  is  the 
meaning  of  this  assembly. 

0  King,  is  it  thus  you  grant  access  to  your  presence? 
But  it  is  well.     I  will  speak  before  this  rabble  and  they 

shall  hear  what  I  have  to  say. 

(He  stands  silent,  with  downcast  eyes. 
THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE:     Speak!     What  have 

you  to  say? 
TETE-D'OR  :     You  have  seen  what  I  have  done. 

Nevertheless  I  shall  tell  it  again  that  you  may  contra- 
dict me. 

1  say  that  this  land  was  like  an  estate  without  a  master, 

like  a  building  that  robbers  themselves  have  aban- 
doned, taking  even  the  locks  and  bolts. 

0  King!  they  left  you  alone  in  your  palace  and  old 
women    brought    their    goats    to    pasture    in    your 
garden. 

Everything  was  piled  in  a  heap,  and  like  cowards,  the 
citizens  lifted  their  impotent  hands  in  air. 

1  appeared  in  the  market-place !     I  appeared  in  that 
land  made  desolate,  bringing  the  force  of  hope  to 
a  perishing  people, 

And  I  spoke  with  the  voice  of  command.     And  those 

who  slumbered 

Heard,  and  thrilled  at  the  call  of  the  leader, 
Like  the  blast  of  the  trumpet,  like  the  creating  word! 
Thus  I  gathered  an  army  about  me.     I  conceived  and 

I  executed. 
I  hurled  the  enemy  to  the  ground  and  tore  the  sword 

from  his  hand.     I  killed  the  lion  that  sprang  upon 

you  to  devour  you. 

That  is  what  I  did.     Has  anyone  anything  to  say? 
THE  KING  :     That  is  what  you  did,  Tete-d'or. 

89 


T£TE-D'OR 

THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE:     Well  and  good.    But 

you  didn't  do  it  alone. 
TETE-D'OR  :     I  say  that  I  did  it  all  alone, 

I  alone !     I  did  it !     I  alone !     Not  another,  but  I ! 
— What  will  you  give  me,  then,  as  a  proper  recom- 
pense? 

— What  will  you  give  me 
That  you  have  not  received  from  my  hands? 

( The  HIGH  PREFECT  breathes  through  his  nose 

as  if  he  wished  to  speak. 

THE  SCHOOLMASTER:     You  only  did  your  duty. 
THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE:     You  have  only  done 

your  duty  to  your  country. 
TETE-D'OR:     What  duty?    What  country? 

What  have  you  done  for  me  ?    I  wandered  your  roads 
like  a  vagabond.     My  bed  was  the  breast  of  the 
earth. 
And  I  know  how  you  welcome  the  man  with  swarthy 

cheeks 
When  he  takes  off  his  cap  uncovering  a  forehead  that 

still  can  redden. 
I  was  hungry  and  you  offered  me  no  bread.      I  am 

hungry ! 

And  behold  I  stand  at  your  door ! 

THE  KING  :     Ask  then,  that  we  may  know  what  you  wish. 
TETE-D'OR:     Examine   me   well   and   inspect   me    from 

every  standpoint. 
Weigh  me,  measure  me.    Study  each  foot  as  you  would 

with  a  horse,  and  put  my  teeth  to  the  test. 
And  considering  everything,  calculate 
If 

The  buyable  bulk  of  myself  comprises  the  profit 
Winnowed  out  by  your  wisdom's  sieve. 

90 


ACT  II 

SOMEONE:     What  does  all  this  mean? 

ANOTHER:     His  voice  is  strange.     It  strikes  the  heart 

so  that  it  vibrates  like  a  plucked  string  and  gives  out 

notes. 
TETE-D'OR  :     Hear  me,  men  that  are  here ! 

Listen  to  me,  O  you  that  hear  through  the  ear  and  the 

hole  that  pierces  the  skull ! 

Up  to  this  time,  O  grass,  you  have  only  heard  the  mur- 
muring of  yourself. 
Listen  to  the  command,  listen  to  the  word  that  ordains, 

hearken  to  intelligence ! 
I  am  the  strength  of  the  voice  and  the  power  of  the 

living  word! 
THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE:     Then  what  do  you 

ask? 
TETE-D'OR  :     I  ask  for  everything. 

I  ask  you  for  everything  that  you  may  give  it  to  me. 
That  supreme  power  may  be  mine  to  do  everything 

and  to  have  everything. 
For  who  shall  fix  the  limits  of  the  intelligence  and  the 

place  where  it  is  stayed,  and  who  shall  set  a  bound 

to  the  power  of  its  arm? 
Let  nothing  in  the  world  escape  me  when  I  pronounce 

the  sacred  word! 

And  as  that  burning  king,  the  heart, 
Is  throned  in  the  midst  of  the  lungs  that  envelop  him, 
Receiving  all  the  blood  in  himself  and  sending  it  out 

again  through  his  gates, 
Even  so  it  is  that  the  contemplation  of  my  intellect  was 

made 
To  establish  itself  on  a  royal  seat,  on  the  throne  of  the 

memory  and  the  will.    It  is  my  wish 
To  reign. 


TfiTE-D'OR 

(Murmur.  Exclamations.    The  sound  of  words 

whispered  from  one  to  another. 
THE  KING:     Tete-d'or  .  .  . 

THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  :     Let  me !    I  will  reply 
to  him. 

( The  MAN  OUT  OF  OFFICE  makes  an  exclama- 
tion.    The  GO-BETWEEN  seems  disturbed  and 
agitated  and  looks  to  left  and  right. 
THE  SCHOOLMASTER    (with  a  grimace]  :     This  young 

man  is  utterly  mad ! 

THE  HIGH  PREFECT:     Hmm!     He  has  the  army  back 
of  him. 

(The  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  looks  at  them 

out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye. 

THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  (to  TETE-D'OR)  :     If 
I  have  rightly  understood  what  you  just  said,  young 

man,  you  are  asking  for  absolute  power. 
TETE-D'OR:     Yes.     You  have  understood  rightly. 

(Murmur. 
THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE:     You  heard!     It  was 

not  I  who  put  the  words  in  his  mouth ! 
Listen  to  me,  young  man,  your  success  has  destroyed 

your  sense  of  proportion. 
Gently! 

You  yourself  have  informed  us  of  all  that  you  imagine 
You  have  done  (very  loudly)  for  your  native  land, 
And  that  it  was  not  done  through  any  love  you  bore 

her, 

And  thus  you  doubly  spare  us 
The  trouble  of  thanking  you. 
You  have  done  it  all 

Alone !     I  take  you  to  witness,  gentlemen ! 
Alone !    But  science  declares,  young  man, 

92 


ACT  II 

That  no  one  can  do  anything  alone. 

(He  claps  his  hat  on  his  head  with  an  air  of 

defiance. 
If  one  of  those  brave  soldiers  who  have  won  the  day 

were  here, 

If  one  of  those  thousands  and  thousands  of  heroes 
Who  have  saved  this  land  were  here, 
Perhaps  he  would  say  that  you  were  not  your  country's 
sole  defender  and  we  should  hear  the  true  account 
of  how  these  events  occurred. 
And  if,  sir,  following  your  example, 
We  advertised  broadcast  all  that  we  had  done  accord- 
ing to  the  measure  of  the  power  with  which  in  that 
hour  of  peril  the  people  honored  us, 
We  should  see  to  whom  in  actual  fact  belonged 
The  greater  part  of  the  credit  for  our  glorious  victory. 
But  at  least,  my  friends, 

(He  slowly  lifts  his  right  hand]  Here  I  swear  it  to 
you!  (he  holds  it  uplifted]  and  I  ask  you  all  to  join 
me  in  the  oath ! 

In  the  darkest  hour  we  kept  our  faith  in  our  country ! 
CRIES  :     True !    It  was  he !    He  did  it  all ! 

(Loud  applause. 
THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  :     No, 

No,  my  friends!     Your  pardon!     Not  that!     A  man 
is  only  a  man.    Do  not  say  that  I  did  it  all,  I  alone. 
Do  you  know  who  did  it  all  ?    I  will  tell  you. 
The  people,  my  friends.     The  noble  people  of  our 
native  land !    They  did  it  all ! 

(Silence. 

THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  (slowly  and  impres- 
sively] :  My  friends,  honor  to  the  people  of  our 
country ! 

93 


T£TE-D'OR 

(He  solemnly  bares  his  head. 
(Loud  clapping ,  hurrahs,  uproar. 
SOMEONE  (in  the  crowd)  :     Very  good  indeed! 
ANOTHER:     No  more  the  one  than  the  other! 
THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE:     As  for  you,  sir,  we 

shall  recognise  what  you  were  able  to  do 
According  as  we  find  it  good. 
I  do  not  know  what  dark  designs  you  cherish.     But  if 

you  tamper  with  our  liberty 
You  will  find,  sir,  that  you  have  to  deal  with  me ! 

(He  crosses  his  arms  and  plants  himself  oppo- 
site TETE-D'OR. 

THE  MAN  OUT  OF  OFFICE  :     You  are  not  by  yourself  in 
that,  Jacquot. 

(He  likewise  crosses  his  arms  and  plants  him- 
self beside  the  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE,  con- 
fronting TETE-D'OR. 

(To  TETE-D'OR. 

Don't  imagine  yourself  the  least  bit  bigger  than  any- 
body else. 

TETE-D'OR:     Another?    Who  is  this? 
A  VOICE  (in  the  crowd)  :     I  am  Envy! 
THE  MAN  OUT  OF  OFFICE  :     Hah !    Who  do  you  think 
that  you  are,  sir?    All  men  are  equal! 

(He  makes  a  horizontal  gesture. 
One  is  no  greater  than  another. 

THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE:     Don't  flatter  yourself 

that  the  people  will  consent  to  renounce  their  rights ! 

TETE-D'OR  :     Kill  me  then,  for  I  shall  not  renounce  mine ! 

THE  MAN  OUT  OF  OFFICE:     They  will  cling  to  their 

liberty. 
TETE-D'OR  :     I  also  would  be  free. 

94 


ACT  II 

THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  :     Are  you  not  free,  then, 

madman? 

TETE-D'OR:     While  there  is  something  not  beneath  my 
sway  I  am  not  free. 

(Murmur. 
I  say  to  you,  kill  me  while  there  still  is  time !    You  are 

a  cityful  and  I  am  all  alone.    Kill  me,  then ! 
For  if  you  do  not  kill  me  I  will  put  my  hand  upon  you 

with  power. 

THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE:     Tete-d'or  .  .  . 
TETE-D'OR  :     Let  me  speak  in  my  turn ! 
Listen,  noise !     Listen,  nothing ! 
And  listen,  flocks  dispersed  in  your  folds  and  pastures, 

and  you 
Dogs  that  believe  yourselves  the  shepherd ! 

(He  shakes   his   head  violently.     His   helmet 
drops  of  and  his  long  yellow  hair  falls  down 
on  to  his  shoulders.     He  becomes  very  red. 
All  are  silent  and  stare  at  him  open-mouthed. 
A  VOICE  :     Look  at  that  woman ! 
TETE-D'OR:     Who  says  that  I  am  a  woman? 

Truly  I  am  a  savage  virgin  on  whom  you  will  not  easily 

lay  your  hand! 
Indeed  I   am   a  woman!      Behold  what  manner   of 

woman  I  am! 
I  bear  a  longing  in  me 
Like  the  seduction  of  fire 
Unconquerable.    And  I  say  to  you  that  there  is  no  one 

here,  however  vile,  that  I  do  not  wish 
To  seize,  that  I  do  not  desire 
To  lay  hold  on  like  roaring  flame 

That  is  not  nice  in  choosing  the  fuel  with  which  it 
burns ! 

95 


TflTE-D'OR 

Let  not  my  day  be  disputed! 

The  Phoenix 

Finds  her  nest  in  the  furnace,  aflame  with  blistering 
light; 

The  enraptured  lark  soars  upward  towards  the  sky, 

Yes,  and  the  infinite  fields  of  shining  air 

Overflow  with  the  passionate  cry  of  that  throbbing 
cluster  of  plumes! 

And  it  is  thus  I  also  rise,  not  like  a  little  bird, 

But  like  the  Sphinx,  shrilling  momentous  cries,  the  fly- 
ing horse,  woman-breasted,  eagle-taloned ! 

— I  shall  not  live  for  you,  but  you  must  live  for  me. 

And  that  is  why  I  stand  alone  before  you  like  a  virgin. 

(Pause. 

(  The  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE,   the  MAN  OUT 

OF  OFFICE  and  the  others  withdraw  a  little 
leaving  in  front  the  group  of  the  KING  and 
his  officials. 

THE  SCHOOLMASTER:     But  what  does  all  this  mean? 
THE  HIGH  PREFECT :     Sire,  will  you  make  no  answer? 
Why  do  you  stand  there  motionless  and  mute,  like 
a  man  who  does  not  hear  or  one  who  has  nothing 
at  stake? 
THE  KING  :     Say  what  you  have  to  say.    The  King  will 

be  the  last  to  speak. 

THE  HIGH  PREFECT  :     Maker  of  Demands,  you  are  ex- 
orbitant in  what  you  ask. 

For  he  who  demands  must  give  an  equivalent  return, 
And  you  offer  us  nothing  but  stand  before  us  with 

dishevelled  hair, 
And  say  that  you  wish  to  be  Master  and  he  who  speaks 

unchallenged,  and  that  you  would  seat  yourself 
Like  a  sovereign  on  the  consecrated  throne, 

96 


ACT  II 

And  not  to  administer 

With  prudent  thrift  for  the  common  good  of  all, 

But  like  a  man  at  his  desk  to  whom  his  tenants  bring 

their  money 

That  he  may  spend  it  in  another  place. 
TETE-D'OR:     I  have  saved  you  all!     Like  a  man  who 

takes  another  in  his  arms. 
THE  HIGH  PREFECT:     All  society,  Tete-d'or, 
Exists  for  the  common  advantage. 
And  each  one  has  his  place  that  he  may  serve  the  rest. 
And  the  Sovereign,  if  one  is  needed,  is  he  who  serves 

everyone, 

With  his  officials,  according  to  their  functions. 
TETE-D'OR  :     And  what  is  the  good  that  they  seek  in  liv- 
ing together? 
THE  SCHOOLMASTER:     And  you,  what  good  have  you  to 

promise  us,  seducer? 
But  they  seek  for  peace  and  to  live  in  peace  by  the  fruits 

of  their  daily  toil. 

TETE-D'OR  :     You  have  not  answered  well,  Schoolmaster. 
You  think  you  are  very  wise  and  in  truth  you  are  only 

an  ignoramus. 
Man  is  like  the  insatiable  fire  which  at  the  last  will 

consume  the  world, 
And  at  present  sleeps  beneath  the  ashes  and  is  used 

for  cooking  food. 

But  behold  I  appear  before  you  like  roaring  flame 
Mightily  rearing  itself  under  the  mouth  of  the  wind! 
THE  SCHOOLMASTER  :     There  is  no  other  good  than  that 

which  I  have  named. 
And  that  is  why  society  exists.     Men  join  together  that 

each  may  serve  his  neighbor. 
TETE-D'OR  :     Serve  ? 

97 


T£TE-D'OR 

And  what  is  the  function  for  which  they  fashioned  me? 

What  implement  am  I? 
I  am  not  the  spade  nor  the  bag  nor  the  scales.     But  I 

am  the  fire  and  the  sword ! 

I  have  no  place  among  you  but  now  I  shall  make  my- 
self one, 

And  I  present  myself  before  you 
Like  the  Bear  who  puts  his  paw  in  the  hive  and  takes 

the  honey  and  honeycomb. 
I  shall  beat  upon  the  drum  and  the  sound  shall  be  heard 

in  the  four  corners  of  the  earth,  and  I  shall  reunite 

all  that  is  male  about  me. 
Woman,  your  son  is  no  longer  your  son !     I  shall  take 

the  peasant  from  his  plough,  I  shall  take  the  man 

from  his  trade,  and  I  shall  bid  the  bridegroom  rise 

from  the  bed  of  his  bride,  and  I  shall  divide  the  flesh 

from  the  flesh! 
And  I  shall  bear  him  with  me 
Into  the  heart  of  the  hurricane,  into  war. 
That  is  why,  O  King, 
Shadow,  sign,  you  must  disappear,  thing  that  is  and 

is  not! 
Clear  the  path  to  the  throne,  such  as  it  is,  and  I  shall 

mount  on  a  table  to  speak  to  the  multitude,  and  I 

shall  tread  it  under  my  feet. 

THE  KING:     My  son,  listen  to  what  the  king  has  to  say. 
TETE-D'OR:     What  have  you  to  say,  old  man? 
THE  KING:     O  young  man,  the  old  man  is  the  man  of 

the  present  time. 
Respect  that  which  is  mine.     Respect  the  possessions 

of  the  father  of  the  family. 

This  kingdom  was  made  by  my  fathers  and  I  am  its 

98 


ACT  II 

rightful  monarch  according  to  the  law  of  inherit- 
ance. 

And  I  am  like  a  man  who  goes  about  his  estate,  saying, 
"These  trees  were  planted  by  my  father. 

And  that  broad  field 

Belonged  to  his  cousin,  who  died,  leaving  no  children, 
and  it  was  gotten  after  a  lengthly  lawsuit. 

The  higher  levels  are  good  but  nothing  will  grow  on 
the  flats. 

And  yonder  farm  was  part  of  my  grandmother's  wed- 
ding portion;  her  marriage  is  still  remembered." 

Thus  my  fathers  sat,  throned  in  their  wooden  arm- 
chairs, ruling  honestly,  giving  ear  to  the  needs  of 
their  people  and  settling  their  differences. 

And  the  people  held  them  in  reverence  although  often 
they  were  harsh  and  unjust  and  gluttonous  and  over- 
fond  of  women. 

And  me  they  have  found  too  old  and  they  have  set  me 
aside,  like  an  old  man  who  remains  wherever  they 
place  his  chair. 

But  the  creaking  of  the  great  door  still  is  dear  to  my 
heart 

When  it  opens  wide  to  receive  the  carts,  piled  high  with 
the  harvest,  that  the  horses  straining  their  utmost 
can  barely  draw. 

Do  not  take  what  is  mine ;  do  not  despoil  my  daughter. 
For  where  will  be  the  blessing  that  you  will  earn 
among  men 

If  you  tread  the  hallowed  law  of  inheritance  under 

your  feet? 

TETE-D'OR:     Father  of  the  family,  I  shall  not  respect 
you. 

For  I  am  like  a  first-born  son  forced  from  his  heritage, 

99 


T£TE-D'OR 

whose  place  the  steward  has  taken,  the  son  of  a 
favored  slave. 

0  miserly  old  man  who  would  keep  what  you  cannot 
use, 

Slothful  monarch,   most  like  the   pitiful  king  of  the 

chess-board 
Shut  in  by  the  castle,  guarded  by  pawns,  and  assaulted 

by  the  knight. 
You  are  the  man  of  the  present  hour,  but  already  that 

hour  is  over. 
Your  right,  I  do  not  know  what  it  is.     But  as  for  me, 

despised  by  all,  I  have  sworn  in  my  misfortune  and 

in  my  solitude 

By  the  air  and  by  the  earth, 
That  I  would  rise  above  the  will  of  others. 
And  as  for  what  my  right  is,  listen  all! 

1  did  not  gain  that  victory,  but  a  beggar,  a  man  un- 
known, 

I  enter  here  and  claim  the  book  and  crown ! 
Out  of  my  way,  old  man ! 
THE  KING:     I  will  not  let  you  pass. 
TETE-D'OR:     Out  of  my  way,  old  man!     For  your  hour 
is  over  and  the  night  is  past  and  another  day  is  born. 
Out,  for  there  cannot  be  two  kings  in  the  hive !     One 

of  the  two  must  vanish. 
THE  KING:     I  will  not  let  you  pass. 
TETE-D'OR:     You  will  not  stand  aside? 

( The  KING  shakes  his  head. 
Then  die! 

(He  draws  his  sword  and  kills  him. 
(Stir  of  horror  in  the  crowd  and  tremendous 
confusion,   spreading  and  increasing  to   the 
100 


ACT  II 

furthest  recesses  of  the  hall  and  to  the  lower 
story.     Then  a  sort  of  silence. 
(A  great  noise,  the  uproar  commencing  below 
and  spreading  to  the  back  of  the  hall.     The 
spectators  of  the  front  rows  are  very  pale 
and  stand  as  if  fascinated,  staring  with  an 
expression   of  horror   and   curiosity   at   the 
blood,  which  pours  forth  on  the  floor  in  a 
great  stream.     TETE-D'OR  laughs. 
A  VOICE  (at  the  back  of  the  hall}  :     Death  to  him! 
FIVE  OR  Six  VOICES   (at  the  back}  :     Kill  him!     Seize 
him! 

(  They  surge  forward. 
TETE-D'OR:     Back! 

Vile  scum,  who  of  you  will  venture  to  defy  me  and 

confront  me  face  to  face ! 
Here  is  your  King ! 

And  as  for  this  contract,  if  there  is  anyone  who  put- 
ting his  hand  upon  you  has  made  you  convey  your- 
selves to  this  ancient  shadow, 
I  tear  it  to  pieces  and  throw  the  bits  in  your  face,  as  I 

throw  you 
This! 

(With   a  violent   movement   he   tears   of   his 
sword  and  throws  it  into  the  midst  of  the 
crowd. 
Listen  to  me,  you  that  are  gathered  here ! 

(Murmur  in   the   hall.      Tremendous   uproar 

below. 
Listen  to  me,  you  that  are  under  my  feet ! 

(He  stamps  his  foot  violently.  He  casts  his 
eyes  about  the  hall  with  a  savage  glare,  then 
bringing  them  back  to  the  KING,  who  is 

101 


TfiTE-D'OR 

stretched  at  his  feet,  he  laughs,  and,  raising 
his  hand  to  his  face,  smears  it  with  blood. 
OKing! 
You  asked  me  what  right  I  had  to  reign.     Will  you 

deny  the  right  of  blood? 
Look,  with  this  I  emblazon  the  title  upon  my  face,  like 

a  light! 
You  have  watered  me  with  your  blood  and  I  am  covered 

with  it  like  one  who  sacrifices, 
And  I  glory  in  that  purple. 

(He  goes  up  to  the  throne  and  kicks  it  over. 
Thus  I  overthrow  you,  throne  of  a  day! 
For  I  shall  stand  and  not  be  seated. 
CRIES  (in  the  crowd)  :     Kill  him!    Seize  him! 
TETE-D'OR:     Now  the  moment  has  come  between  you 

and  me 
When  either  you  must  kill  me  or  I  must  become  your 

master. 
Look,  I  am  alone  and  unarmed! 

(Pause. 
Do  you  say  nothing  now?    I  say  to  you  that  you  have 

no  power  to  act  and  this  is  the  reason  why. 
Because  you  are  cowards,  because  you  bear  the  brand 

of  a  threefold  degradation. 

And  the  first  is  ignorance  through  which  you  cannot 
answer  yes  or  no,  but  stand  open-mouthed  like  men 
bereft  of  their  wits. 

And  the  second  is  the  woman,  on  whom  there  hangs  a 

curse;  and  she  was  made  to  remain  at  home  and 

submit  to  the  strong  and  capable  hand;  but  you 

have  taken  the  woman  to  be  your  mistress. 

And  the  third  is  the  spirit  of  the  word  and  of  speech. 

102 


ACT  II 

But  I  shall  let  loose  upon  you  a  speech  that  you  do  not 

know, 

Insatiable,  irresistible, 

I  shall  establish  over  you  the  empire  of  the  sword, 
The  sword  that  pierces  and  divides,  the  sword  that 

penetrates  and  pursues ! 

O  imbecility !     O  inertia  !     Enormous  burden  of  igno- 
rant men !     Behold  I  have  risen, 
Like  a  nurse  that  overlies  a  child  you  lay  upon  me ;  but 

I  have  risen  and  dashed  you  to  the  earth. 
And  the  world  is  crushing  me,  but   I   shall  prevail 

against  it. 

(;He  marches  across  the  hall  with  an  ominous 

air,  then  halting,  he  turns  towards  them. 
In  the  name  of  the  infinite  ocean ! 
By  the  tragic  birth  of  this  day ! 
By  the  tempest 
With  which  the  peaks  and  pyramids  that  loom  over 

desolated  cities 

Arm  the  South,  assaulting  the  bleeding  sky! 
By  the  echoing  crash  of  the  thunder,  by  the  sulphurous 

lung  of  ruddy  lightning! 
By  the  team  of  the  winds  that  drag  their  roller  over 

the  tossing  mass  of  roaring  forests!     By  the  winter 
With  its  wind  that  bends  the  pines,  routs  the  battalions 

of  clouds,  and  riddles  with  sand  the  withered  potato 

leaves;  and  with  its  blinding  snow; 
And  with  its  flooding  rain  that  bombards  the  roads  and 

the   bushes   and   the   windmills   and   the   ploughed 

fields! 

By  the  tranquillity  of  the  murky  air! 
By  armed  apparitions  in  the  blackness  of  the  pines ! 

103 


TftTE-D'OR 

By  the  dreadful  force  of  conflagration  and  irresistible 

flood, 

By  the  whirlwind!     By  silence! 
And  by  all  terrible  things ! 

Will  not  you  that  are  here  recognise  at  last  who  I  am? 
(Silence;  then  a  lamentable  VOICE  in  the  crowd. 
Tete-d'or!    Tete-d'or  I 
SOMEONE   (his  eyes  fixed  on  the  blood)  :     I  have  never 

seen  the  shedding  of  human  blood! 
TETE-D'OR  :     I  have  not  come  like  the  humble  god  of  the 

soup, 
Benevolent,  blinking  his  eyes  in  the  steam  of  meat  and 

cabbage. 

— Utter  a  bitter  cry,  my  soul,  rush  forward!     Men,  I 
propose  to  wash  away  your  shame  and  to  lift  you 
from  your  baseness. 
Here  you  are  pinched  for  room,  I  propose  to  lead  you 

forth 
And,  having  drawn  you  up  in  lines  and  columns,  to 

advance  with  you  against  the  whole  world, 
That  you  may  become  acquainted  with  all  the  earth, 

and  indeed  that  you  may  make  it  yours 
By  force  and  by  possession. 

(Murmur  in  the  crowd.  Four  groups  form. 
In  the  first  the  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  and 
his  adherents.  In  the  second  the  MAN  OUT 
OF  OFFICE.  In  the  third,  the  OFFICIALS  OF 
THE  STATE.  In  the  fourth,  the  BROTHER  OF 

THE  KING. 

THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  (shouting}  :     Never!    I 
will  not  permit  the  setting  up  of  a  tyrant. 

THE  GO-BETWEEN:     He  has  us  in  his  hand.    In  an  hour 
the  army  will  be  here. 

104 


ACT  II 

THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE:  I  will  show  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  King  to  the  people. 

( The  air  is  filed  with   the   clamor   of  bells. 

Cannon  in  the  distance. 
THE  GO-BETWEEN :     Do  you  hear? 

(He  goes  to  the  Second  Group.     To  the  MAN 
OUT  OF  OFFICE,  pointing  to  the  TRIBUNE  OF 

THE  PEOPLE. 

He  is  going  to  fetch  the  King's  daughter  and  show  her 

to  the  people. 

THE  MAN  OUT  OF  OFFICE  :  Does  he  plan  to  make  him- 
self dictator?  I  shall  oppose  him  in  that.  I  prefer 
the  other  one. 

THE  GO-BETWEEN  (to  the  BROTHER  OF  THE  KING)  :    He 
says  that  he  wants  to  have  them  crown  the  daughter 
of  the  King. 
THE  BROTHER  OF  THE  KING  :     Her  ? 

It  is  to  me  that  the  crown  reverts.     What  does  Tete- 

d'or  intend  to  make  of  this  little  kingdom  here? 
THE  GO-BETWEEN  (in  the  group  of  the  officials}  :  Well? 
Which?     What  do  you  say?     The  daughter  or  the 
brother? 

THE  CHIEF  JUSTICE:  The  brother?  Never.  A  thor- 
oughly impractical  theorist.  A  man  unstable  as 
water.  And  he  would  always  be  close  a't  hand 
watching  whatever  we  do.  I  prefer  the  ruler  that's 
far  away. 
And  no  women! 

SOMEONE  (aside)  :     His  wife  hates  the  Princess. 
TETE-D'OR:     Tribune  of  the  People,  my  sword  is  close 
beside  you.     Pick  it  up  and  bring  it  to  me. 

( The  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  brings  him  the 
sword. 

105 


TETE-D'OR 

TETE-D'OR  :     Take  it ! 

(He  hands  him  the  sword  in  its  sheath. 
You  are  the  ruler,  do  what  you  please.     You  are  like 
a  man  with  a  knife  in  his  hand  before  a  loaf  of 
bread. 

( The  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  shakes  his  head 

and  gives  him  back  the  sword. 
I  said,  "Do  what  you  please."     Can  you  not  keep  it 

yourself? 
THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  :    I  ...  I  am  the  ... 

the  ... 

The  clamor  of  the  yelling  crowd. 
TETE-D'OR:     Who  would  like  my  sword? 

(He  holds  the  sword  in  his  hands.     No  one 

answers. 

Then  I  will  draw  you  myself,  O  sword  disdained  that 
no  one  cares  to  take !  O  how  you  rest  in  your  sheath ! 
Sword !    Sword ! 
Gage,  unfailing  hope,  you 
That  have  already  conquered  once ! 
I  will  lift  you  up  like  a  torch,  sign  of  immortal  victory 
that  I  hold! 

0  people  whose  tongues  stutter  and  stammer,  here  is 
a  searching  question  between  my  hands ! 

You  are  plunged  in  indescribable  ignorance,  but  the 
illusion  lies  where  he  who  does  not  know  declares 
that  he  knows. 

Man  lives  in  illusion  and  piles  up  books  around  him- 
self like  straw. 

But  now  I  will  devour  all !    I  hold  you,  uplifted  sword ! 

1  stand  in  the  midst  of  animals  and  I  will  not  be  seated. 
And  anger  rises  in  me  ! 

(He  throws  away  the  scabbard. 
106 


ACT  II 

I  defy  you,  arid  country!    You  that  refuse  me  any  joy, 

I  will  make  you  my  domain ! 

Shine  bare,  bright  blade,  till  this  enterprise  is  ended! 
And  if  anyone  is  tired  of  this  scurvy  tailor's  life,  let 

him  come  and  follow  me !     If  there  is  anyone 
Dissatisfied  with  this  vile,  monotonous  afternoon  de- 
voted to  the  process  of  digestion,  let  him  come  and 
follow  me ! 

If  you  fancy  that  you  are  men,  and  if  your  blood 
Boils  at  the  badges  of  your  servitude, 
Vent  your  pent  rage !     Oh  cry, 
And  end  your  infamy! 
Come !    Let  us  set  out ! 
And  I  will  march  before  you,  holding  the  sword  in  my 

hand,  and  already  there  is  blood  upon  its  blade. 
SOMEONE:     Tete-d'or,  what  can  we  do? 
TETE-D'OR:     And  I,  I  say  to  you,  "Who  will  dare  to 

dare, 
And,  stamping  the  earth,  cry  'I  can'  in  the  silence  of 

Nothingness?" 
THE  SAME:     Will  you  dare,  yourself? 

(Silence. 

TETE-D'OR:     Time  that  moves  and  disposes  all  things 
Withdraws  from  us  like  the  sea, 
And  now  on  the  solid  earth  there  stands 
For  the  first  time  a  king. 

(He  picks  up  the  crown  from  the  floor. 
Vanish,  like  wreaths  of  smoke,  dreams,  prestige,  past, 

and  you 

Who  look  at  me,  I  bid  you  dare 
To  contemplate  with  new  eyes  a  new  day ! 
In  the  name  of  everything,  and  not 
Of  the  appearances  that  the  dream  of  custom  brings, 

107 


TfiTE-D'OR 

But  of  everything  as  it  actually  is,  and  in  the  name  of 

truth  and  reason, 
I  place  this  crown  on  my  head. 

(He  puts  the  crown  on  his  head. 
To-day  for  the  first  time  the  king  of  men  uplifts  a  head 

encircled  with  gold! 
Yes,  and  thereat  eternity  may  take  a  voice  and  lament. 

She  shall  not  shake  my  royal  heart. 
For  what  can  chaos  itself  and  the  night  of  creation 

avail 
Against  the  man  whose  soul  in  the  uttermost  depths 

of  shadow,  in  the  crowning  horror  of  silence,  stands 

firm 

And  fears  neither  pain  nor  death? 
MURMUR  (in  the  crowd}  :     He  has  put  the  crown  on  his 

head. 

(Silence. 
TETE-D'OR  (shouting)  :     Search  my  heart  and  if  you  find 

there 
Anything  save  an  immortal  desire,  take  it  and  cast  it 

on  the  dunghill  for  a  hen  to  carry  away  in  her  beak! 
I  do  not  come  here  with  an  unworthy  thought. 
CASSIUS  (rushing  forward)  :     Will  none  of  you  speak? 

Who  dares  to  say  "What  shall  we  do?" 
Shall  he  be  the  only  one  to  speak  of  this?     Will  you 

be  silent  forever? 
As  for  me  I  shall  follow  you,  O  King !     Here  you  are 

again,  O  King,  like  a  rose  preserved  in  honey!   Hail ! 
I  have  listened  to  you  and  I  have  understood,  and  also 
I  fought  at  your  side  when  you  gained  the  victory, 
And  it  was  I,  all  unworthy,  my  breast  distended  with 

an  intolerable  joy,  who  bore  the  tidings  hither. 
108 


ACT  II 

Like  a  runner  carrying  in  his  mouth  a  draught  of  water 

to  one  that  thirsts ! 

Now  that  this  air  has  fanned  my  martial  cheek 
And  my  eyes  have  been   dazzled  an  instant  by  this 

miracle  of  suns, 
I  will  fight,  I  will  march  in  the  place  from  whence  it 

blows  and  shines. 

And  now  I  see  another  thing,  O  King! 
You,  who  like  a  beggar  before  a  prince, 
Were  not  afraid  to  tear  your  veil  before  this  shadowy 

country  and  to  reveal  yourself ! 
And  I  kneel  before  you!     Remember  that  I  was  the 

first  to  kneel. 

SIGH,    then    CRY    (among    the    onlookers}  :     We    kneel 
before  you,  O  King! 

(All  except  the  leaders,  kneel. 
TETE-D'OR  :     Rise !     Rise ! 
VOICE  :     We  kneel  before  you. 

TETE-D'OR:     Rise!     Do  not  humble  yourselves  before 
me. 

(  They  rise. 
VOICE  :     Then  we  will  rise  and  now  we  stand  at  our  full 

stature.     Hail,  O  King! 
TETE-D'OR  :     I,  the  King !    Ah ! 
What  did  you  say? 

Who  am  I?    What  have  I  said?    What  have  I  done? 
VOICE  :     Did  you  not  stand  before  us  and  did  you  not .  .  . 
TETE-D'OR  :     Alas ! 
Who  am  I? 

Alas !    I  myself  am  weak ! 
VOICE:     .  .  .  say 

That  you  would  make  all  force  recoil  before  your  face? 

109 


TETE-D'OR 

TETE-D'OR:     I    am   only   a   beggar!      I   cannot   do   it! 

Come ! 

If  anyone  knows  another  course  to  follow 
Let  him  announce  it  and  I  will  live  in  the  grass  of  the 

field  like  an  ox. 

VOICE  :     We  do  not  know  of  one. 
TETE-D'OR:     "I  wish.    I  know.    It  shall  be." 
That  word 
Is  sure.     If  the  earth 

Were  only  a  quicksand,  I  would  not  be  deceived. 
VOICE:     Do  you  hesitate,  now? 
TETE-D'OR  (he  shakes  and  spreads  out  his  hair) 
— By  this  hair, 
Splendid,   saturate  with  Aurora,   fleece   imbrued  with 

the  blood  of  the  Mother,  token  of  freedom, 
Golden  veil  that  I  raise  with  my  hands! 
I  will  dare !     I  will  turn  my  steps  to  a  place  where 

never  a  leaf  nor  tinkling  spring 
Imparts  its  counsel  of  peace. 
Oh! 

Is  it  not  sure  and  visible,  this  thing? 
Unafraid  shall  I  go  forth,  like  a  flaming  tree!     And 

like  the  sun  I  shall  descend  to  drink. 
See  where  I  stand  in  your  midst  like  a  candelabrum. 
— Bind  up  my  hair,  Cassius,  and  braid  it  like  the  tail 
of  a  horse. 

(While  Cassius  binds  up  his  hair. 
THE  BROTHER  OF  THE  KING  (advancing]  :       O  Tete- 

d'or,  you  have  killed  my  brother ! 

And  you  have  taken  his  crown,  despoiling  his  daughter 
and  me,  and  in  the  place  of  the  ancient  right  you  put 
a  right  that  is  new. 

But  you  have  placed  the  crown  upon  your  head.    And 

no 


ACT  II 

that  it  is  to  which  I  am  attached,  and  I  am  as  it  were 
a  witness  of  this  new  wedding. 

My  brother  is  no  longer  my  brother  and  his  daughter 
is  my  niece  no  more,  and  if  occasion  demands  I  will 
give  you  my  aid  against  her  and  against  your  enemies. 
I  salute  you,  O  King. 

(He  takes  his  bloody  hand. 
TETE-D'OR  :     Thank  you,  sir ! 

THE  OFFICERS  OF  STATE  (coming  forward  according  to 
their  rank  and  taking  his  hand)  :     We  salute  you, 

0  King! 

TETE-D'OR:     Do  your  duty,  you  who  are  like  the  senses 

of  the  King  and  like  his  memory. 
THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  (from  where  he  stands)  : 

1  also  salute  you. 

(TETE-D'OR  makes  no  answer. 
THE  TRIBUNE  OF  THE  PEOPLE   (coming  forward  and 

raising  his  hand)  :     I  salute  you,  O  King. 
TETE-D'OR:     Salute  also,  voice  of  the  streets,  clamor  of 

the  markets. 

Do  your  duty  and  cry!     Cry  and  I  will  try  to  under- 
stand. 

THE  MAN  OUT  OF  OFFICE   (hastily  following  this  ex- 
ample) :     I  salute  you,  O  King! 
Do  not  trust  that  man  nor  the  others.  ...  I  will 

watch  your  enemies  and  keep  an  eye  on  all. 
TETE-D'OR:     Thanks,  dog  of  the  gardener!     Be  active 
and  vigilant  and  I  will  give  you  your  part. 

(All  have  trodden  in  the  blood  of  the  KING. 
The  whole  stage  is  covered  with  footprints 
and  there  are  the  marks  of  bloody  hands  on 
the  walls. 

(Silence. 
in 


TfiTE-D'OR 

(CASSIUS,  who  was  behind  TETE-D'OR,  now  steps 
in  front  of  him  and  kneels  again.  TETE-D'OR 
slowly  lowers  his  eyes  till  their  glances  meet 
and  they  stare  at  each  other  with  a  certain 
wildness  in  their  gaze. 

CASSIUS:     O  golden  hope,  most  cherished  violence,  ar- 
riving at  the  end  of  our  dreary  day 
As  the  sunlight  gains  an  added  sweetness 
When  it  inundates  old  roofs  after  centuries  of  soot! 
Suffer  this  hand  to  touch  you !     O  effulgent  Autumn, 
guide  us ! 

(He  rises. 

And  now  I  stand  again. 
And  my  cry  is  Forward!    Let  every  man  arise!    Bring 

forth  the  chariots  and  the  cannon ! 
And  let  us  go  out  from  this  wearisome  ravine,  that  the 
wind  of  the  open  sky  and  the  warmth  of  the  sun 
may  strike  upon  our  faces ! 
Space  is  free !    The  earth  is  flat  like  a  field  of  beets  in 

October, 

The  world  shall  behold!     And  it  shall  be  astonished! 
And  like  a  perjured  judge 
Passing  sentence  against  itself,  shall  fall  from  its  rotten 

judgment  seat, 
While  our  trumpets  through  the  fields  shall  blare  so 

loudly 
That  never  from  that  day  forth  shall  the  clang  of 

copper  and  bronze 
Be  thought  sonorous. 

TETE-D'OR:     In  the  midst  of  the  Earth  there  is  a  field 
And  he  who,  from  spurs  to  crest 

Wreathes  himself  with  the   fumiter  and  bluets  that 
flower  there, 

112 


ACT  II 

— By  the  plains  and  the  amphitheatre  of  mountains, 

By  the  seas,  by  the  swollen  rivers  and  by  the  murmur- 
ing forests, 

Shall  be  hailed  as  King,  Father, 

Stem  of  Justice,  Throne  of  Thrift ! 

— I  turn  my  steps  to  a  region  where  the  drum  is  never 
silent,  where  the  baldric  is  never  turned, 

To  a  road  that  is  bordered  with  fire,  a  place  of  brutal 
acts  and  terrible  cries ! 

I  shall  not  fear !  But  I  shall  fare  forth  like  the  famine 
and  the  cyclone ! 

Hate  and  Anger 

And  Vengeance  and  the  frenzied  Image  of  Pain 

March  before  me,  and  Hope  unveils  its  solemn  face ! 

Come !  the  time  commands  and  the  road  will  no  longer 
be  denied. 

I  shall  march !  I  shall  fight !  I  shall  crush  the  barrier 
beneath  my  conquering  feet !  I  shall  break  the  vain 
resistance  like  rotten  wood! 

(Enter  the  PRINCESS  veiled  in  black. 

What  woman's  shape  is  this  that  stands  before  me! 

Unveil! 

THE  PRINCESS:     O  Father,  are  you  here? 
TETE-D'OR:     He  is  here. 

THE  PRINCESS:     Victorious  Tete-d'or !    My  father  bade 
me  come  to  give  you  greeting ! 

And  if  you  ask  why  I  wear  this  mourning  veil  that  pre- 
vents my  seeing  you 

It  is  to  honor  you,  like  my  native  land 

Who  has  come  before  you  and  from  whose  darkened 
face  you  have  removed  the  sombre  veil. 

And  I  have  learned  that  Cebes  is  no  more. 

I  salute  you,  victorious  head! 


TftTE-D'OR 

(She  removes  her  veil  and  looks  at  him. 
(TETE-D'OR  stands,  sword  in  hand  and  crowned, 
his  feet  on  the  wide  robe  of  the  KING.  To 
his  right,  the  BROTHER  OF  THE  KING  and  the 
Magistrates  of  the  republic.  To  his  left  the 
Representatives  of  the  people.  The  by- 
standers make  a  hedge  on  both  sides  leaving 
a  free  passage  to  the  door. 
( The  PRINCESS  slowly  stretches  out  her  arms 
and  kneeling  she  kisses  the  ground,  where 
she  remains  prostrate. 

( Two  women  lift  her  up  clasping  her  under 
the  arms  and  she  stands  before  TETE-D'OR, 
her  head  bowed  on  her  breast. 

(Silence. 
THE  SCHOOLMASTER  (weeping,  to  TETE-D'OR)  :     Behold 

her,  O  King,  and  have  pity ! 
I  was  her  tutor  and  when  she  was  but  a  child  I  held 

her  on  my  knee, 
When  in  her  picture  book  I  showed  her  the  images 

of  the  creation. 

And  on  her  fete-day,  according  to  ancient  custom, 
When  the  women  came  to  cure  their  baby's  spasms, 
At  mid-day  when  in  her  cymar  of  flowered  silk  she 

appeared  on  the  topmost  step 

In  the  glory  of  youth  and  beauty,  like  a  sunflower  up- 
turning its  beaming  face  to  the  sun, 
All  the  people  were  like  a  man  on  whom  there  sud- 
denly falls 

The  healing  shadow  of  whispering  branches, 
So  much  upon  the  air,  like  a  sweet  and  gracious  breeze, 
Poured  forth  the  fragrant  smell  of  the  ancient,  royal 
vine  1 

114 


ACT  II 

And  now,  poor  child,  you  are  like  a  shattered  blossom, 
like  the  sunflower  stripped  from  its  stalk,  turning  its 
drooping  face  to  the  earth ! 

Behold  her,  O  King!  Like  a  purchased  ewe  she  is  here 
beneath  your  hand. 

(Silence. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Will  you  not  kill  me  also  ? 

(She  slowly  raises  her  head  and  looks  about 

her. 
I  knew  you  all  by  your  names,  I  have  grown  up  among 

you  and  now  you  have  betrayed  me. 
Not  a  friend  is  left  me  and  everyone  turns  towards  me 

a  hostile  face. 

O  you  in  whom  my  father  trusted  as  in  a  son,  putting 

his  arm  about  your  neck !    And  you !    And  you !     O 

teacher  that  taught  me  from  childhood,  you  also 

are  ranked  with  my  foes ! 

And  you,  my  father's  brother,  stand  at  his  murderer's 

right  hand! 

THE  BROTHER  OF  THE  KING:     Young  girl,  I  do  not 
know  you!     But  I  am  he  who  stands  at  the  right 
hand  of  the  Prince. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     O  Father !    O  Father ! 

O  King  of  this  country,  august  as  the  ascension  of  the 

hand  when  it  begins  the  sign  of  the  cross, 
It  is  thus  that  they  have  wearied  of  allegiance  and 

thrown  you  to  the  earth, 
They  have  thrown  you  aside  like  a  worthless  thing, 

like  a  bone  that  one  tosses  to  dogs! 
And  they  bear  your  blood  on  the  soles  of  their  shoes, 

and  upon  the  sides  of  their  den 

Are  stains  like  those  on  the  walls  of  a  slaughter-house ! 

(She  tears  her  mantle  in  two. 


TfiTE-D'OR 

Treason !     Treason ! 

Sun,  behold  this  impious  act! 

Listen  to  me,  O  you  who  are  gathered  here  about  this 
pool  of  blood.  The  thought  of  your  pernicious 
hearts  is  laid  bare! 

You  have  had  enough  of  me, 

You  do  not  want  me  to  be  your  queen!  And  I  re- 
nounce you  also  and  will  trouble  you  no  more. 

I  will  go  out  from  the  midst  of  you,  O  iniquitous  and 
fraudulent  hearts ! 

I  strip  you  from  me  like  these  vain  adornments ! 

(She  tears  of  her  ornaments  and  throws  them 
down. 

All!  All!  Take  all  again!  O  vanities,  I  divest  my- 
self of  you,  and  I  shall  go  forth  naked  from  this 
place ! 

And  now  permit  me  to  depart  if  I  am  free  to  go, 

For  I  cannot  endure  the  glance  of  yonder  basilisk! 
TETE-D'OR  :     Do  you  think  to  astonish  me,  young  girl,  do 
you  think  that  I  am  afraid  of  you? 

Behold  this  hand,  behold  me,  young  girl,  it  is  I  who 
killed  your  father! 

I  offered  him  as  a  fitting  sacrifice 

And  his  blood  spurted  upon  me,  and  he  tumbled  at  my 
feet,  writhing  in  the  agony  of  death. 

For  I  saved  this  land  with  my  sword,  and  turning  upon 
its  incapable  master, 

I  put  him  to  death  as  was  just,  and  the  punishment 

meted  out  did  not  exceed  the  crime. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Father !    Father ! 
TETE-D'OR  :     Cry  1      Call  him ! 

"Father!  Father!"  See,  doubtless  he  hears.  Call 
louder ! 

116 


ACT  II • 

What  is  a  man  that  is  dead?    And  who  exists  beyond 

the  grave  to  still  be  mindful  of  us? 
And  you,  where  were  you  before  you  were  born,  work 

of  the  womb? 
So,    having  lived,    we   return   to   the   same   nameless 

nothingness 

A  human  soul  inflated  with  love  and  malediction ! 
That  is  why  I  shall  do  my  part  here  and  shall  rise  like 

a  lofty  tree. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     The  blood  of  my  father  is  on  you.    It 

has  fallen  upon  you  like  rain, 
And  your  own  shall  flow  like  a  spring. 
TETE-D'OR:     Joyfully,  joyfully,  I  accept  the  omen!     So 

be  it !    So  be  it !    I  long  to  see  that  day ! 
Let  it  flow,  let  it  submerge  the  world ! 
Let  the  vein  of  my  heart  be  pierced,  let  my  blood  leap 
forth  like  a  lion,  let  it  gush  like  a  subterranean  sea 
beneath  the  iron  of  the  drill. 
— And  now, 

And  now,  depart !    There  is  no  place  for  you  here. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Let  me  carry  my  father  with  me. 
TETE-D'OR:     Take  him!     Carry  away  the  fallen. 
THE  PRINCESS  (kneeling  before  the  body)  :     Sire ! 

O  sacred  dead,  let  me  touch  you  and  be  not  angry 

thereat,  for  these  are  the  hands  of  your  daughter. 
And  as  you  carried  me  here  and  there  in  your  arms 

when  I  was  already  grown, 

Even  so  I  shall  bear  you  away,  O  sole  remaining  pos- 
session, O  my  dead  and  fallen  race. 

(With  difficulty  she  puts  the  body  on  her 
shoulders  and  goes  out,  carrying  it  thus  on 
her  back. 

TETE-D'OR:     Though  every  heart  should  glut  itself  with 

117 


T£TE-D'OR 

anguish  it  shall  not  shake  me  for  mine  is  full  to  the 
brim! 
I  killed  him  scarcely  seeing  him,  like  a  partridge  shot 

in  a  dream, 
Or  as  the  hurrying  traveller  pulls  up  an  importunate 

fern. 

— I  have  said  what  I  had  to  say  and  soon 
I  shall  announce  to  you  what  we  shall  undertake. 
My  time  is  at  hand. 
Like  the  arch  of  the  rainbow  my  glory  shall  rise  above 

the  world, 

Announcing  to  those  who  see  it  the  birth  of  a  new  day! 
I  breathe  you  again !     I  worship  you,  sweet  perfume  of 

victory ! 
Rose,  give  me  your  scent !     Sun,  cover  your  face  in 

your  bed  of  celestial  down! 
And  bury  this  child. 
For  it  is  not  fitting  that  I  should  soil  by  commerce  with 

the  dead  the  Majesty  of  Empire. 
This  dead  child!    The  dawn  of  my  future  glory! 

(He  goes  out  with  a  convulsive  sob. 

(Pause. 
(Enter  the  group  of  Mourners  who  take  their 

places  around  the  body  of  CEBES. 
(Drum-beats.      They  raise  the  body  on  their 

shoulders  and  sombrely  go  out. 
(Increasing  murmur  outside.     Confused  noise 
of  bells  and  voices.    Discharge  of  cannon  at 
regular  intervals.     All  go   out  except  CAS- 
sius.     Military  music  is  heard  approaching 
amid  a  tremendous  hubbub.     All  at  once  it 
breaks  of  and  loud  cries  are  heard,  which 
118 


ACT  II 

draw   nearer,   and   the   noise   of   an   armed 
crowd  running. 

( They  enter  the  palace.  Frightful  clamor.  The 
soldiers,  some  of  them  carrying  their  stand- 
ards, crowd  into  the  hall.  Others  enter 
through  the  windows.  Rattle  of  sabres  on 
the  stairs.  The  discharge  of  firearms.  Scene 
of  confusion  through  which  can  be  heard 
only  the  cry,  "Tete-d'or!" 

CASSIUS  (to  an  officer}  :     What  is  the  matter? 
THE  OFFICER  :     They  say  that  he  has  been  assassinated. 
(CASSIUS  mounts  upon  the  throne  and  draws 

his  sword. 
(He  vainly  tries  many  times  to  make  himself 

heard.    At  last  there  is  a  kind  of  silence. 
CASSIUS  (shouting  at  the  top  of  his  voice}  :     He  is  not 

dead,  but  has  made  himself  our  King! 
CLAMOR  :     Tete-d'or  1 

( The  soldiers  form  in  ranks,  around  the  flags, 

and  march  about  the  hall. 
(Discharge  of  artillery  in  the  court.     The  hall 
fills  with  smoke  through  which  largely  enters 
the  light  of  the  sun. 


119 


Act  III 

The  Caucasus.  A  natural  terrace  in  a  lofty  place,  open- 
ing toward  the  North  and  the  East  and  surrounded  by 
colossal  trees.  A  formidable  vertical  trench  is  open 
towards  the  West,  cutting  through  the  mountain  like  a 
street. 

Night.  All  the  upper  part  of  the  scene  is  occupied  by 
the  constellation  of  the  Great  Bear,  distinguishable 
through  the  mist.  From  below  at  a  great  depth  the 
rumble  of  wheels  and  the  jingling  of  harness,  suggesting 
the  passing  of  troops. 

The  PRINCESS,  clothed  in  leaves  and  the  skins  of  ani- 
mals, is  stretched  on  the  ground. 

THE  PRINCESS:     I  am  cold!     I  am  hungry! 
Will  this  dreadful  night  never  end?     And  yet 
already  I  see  the  stars  of  morning,  and  Mars, 
ruddy  and  golden,  gleams  above  my  head. 

0  constellations  bending  over  man,  O  shining  city  in 
the  skies  of  night,  take  pity  on  me ! 

(Silence.     Rustling  in  the  trees. 

1  listen !    What  do  you  whisper,  trees  that  know  every- 

thing? 
You  are  arguing  endlessly,  like  men  that  are  fettered 

by  the  leg. 
And  I,  I  lie  on  the  earth  at  your  feet  in  this  abyss  of 

the  earth! 

I  had  withdrawn  to  the  desert  places,  to  this  extremity 

1 20 


ACT  III 

Of  the  world,  protecting  my  body  with  leaves  and  the 

skins  of  beasts, 
Fleeing  from  men,  like  an  animal,  for  fear  they  should 

catch  me  and  kill  me. 
But  now  the  mountain  is  full  of  unaccountable  noises 

and  I  do  not  know  whither  to  go. 
And  I  am  so  weak  that  I  cannot  stir. 
Alas !     Why  should  I  wish  for  the  sun  when  he  will 

reveal  me  to  all? 

And  here  like  a  ewe  with  a  broken  leg  I  lie  at  the  mercy 
of  anyone  that  passes. 

(A  long  pause.     Daybreak. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     I  am  cold !     I  am  hungry ! 

(Pause.     The  sun  rises. 

(Hoof-beats    without.      Enter    on    horseback 

CASSIUS  bearing  the  Sword.     He  rides  to  an 

eminence  from   which   he   can    observe    the 

whole  country. 

(Enter  on  horseback  TETE-D'OR  surrounded  by 

his  staff. 

THE  CHIEF  OF  STAFF:     What  do  you  see,  Cassius? 
CASSIUS:     Nothing.    The  mist  rises. 
FIRST  CAPTAIN:     What  is  that  on  the  ground  there? 
SECOND  CAPTAIN  :     The  skull  of  a  man ! 
THIRD  CAPTAIN  :     The  skeleton  of  a  cow ! 
FOURTH  CAPTAIN  :     And  look !    A  whole  heap  of  them ! 

Bones  of  men  and  beasts ! 
TETE-D'OR :     What  do  they  call  this  place? 
THE  CHIEF  OF  STAFF:     It  is  called  "The  Door,"  for 

the  ultimate  door  is  here. 

This  is  the  threshold  that  opens  on  the  everlasting 
North  and  the  regions  of  the  sunrise. 
121 


T£TE-D'OR 

Here  is  the  rampart;  the  slanting  joint  through  which 

Europe  is  bound  to  the  Earth  of  the  Earth. 
And  here  it  is  that  they  fettered  the  ancient  Thief  of 

Fire 

When  the  Eagle,  falling  like  a  thunderbolt, 
Fastened  upon  him  and  tore  the  liver  from  his  body. 
— What  do  you  see,  Cassius? 
CASSIUS  (shouting)  :     Space! 
THE  CHIEF  OF  STAFF:     Look  North.     What  do  you 

see? 

CASSIUS:     I  see  the  expanse  of  the  Earth! 
THE  CHIEF  OF  STAFF  :     Turn  to  the  sacred  East ! 
CASSIUS  :     The  earth  is  unrolled  like  a  carpet.    And  the 
distance  is  veiled  in  mist. 

(He  returns  towards  them. 
( The  CHIEF  OF  STAFF  and  another  Captain  dis- 
mount and  taking  TETE-D'OR'S  horse  by  the 
bridle    they   lead   him    to    the   place   where 
CASSIUS  stood. 
THE  CHIEF  OF  STAFF:     Look,  O  King,  and  take,  for  all 

that  you  see  is  yours. 
And  the  earth  is  yours  like  a  field  of  which  the  extent 

has  been  measured. 
Look!     Yonder  the  ocean  lies,   flat  and  enclosed,   a 

round  mirror.     For  here 
Toiling  upwards  we  have   reached  the   level  of  the 

world  and  here  the  ascent  is  over. 
"The  Door"  this  place  is  called,  for  here  in  ancient 
times,  the  wandering  peoples  of  the  Plain,  at  this 
high  pass, 

Halted  to  sacrifice,  as  the  bones  will  testify,  offering 
fire  to  the  gods  of  Space, 
122 


ACT  III 

Before   they   crossed  the   dark   defile   and  began  the 

perilous  descent, 

Forming  nations  according  to  the  hollows  of  the  earth. 
Now  after  the  lapse  of  centuries  it  is  we  that  appear 

from  the  other  side 
Presenting  to  the  descendants  of  those  who  remained 

behind  a  new  sceptre. 
See,  O  King,  we  have  rediscovered  Space ! 
Then  advance,  O  King,  and  cross  the  gigantic  plain, 
That  we  may  ascend  the  final  step  and  conquer 
The  enormous  altar  of  Asia. 

(Silence. 
(TETE-D'OR   without  speaking  points   out   the 

PRINCESS  lying  in  the  bushes. 
A  CAPTAIN:     What  is  that? 

(He  touches  her  with  the  point  of  his  lance. 

She  groans. 

THE  CAPTAIN  :  It  lives.  But  I  do  not  know  whether 
it  is  a  beast  or  a  woman. 

(He  dismounts   and  taking   her  in   his   arms, 

lifts  her  from  the  ground. 

ANOTHER  CAPTAIN  :  Strange  beings  inhabit  this  moun- 
tain. This  has  the  hide  of  a  beast,  the  hair  of  a 
woman. 

TETE-D'OR:  It  is  a  woman,  dying  of  thirst,  poor 
creature !  Give  her  my  gourd. 

(He  hands  them  his  gourd.     They  put  it  to  her 
lips.     She  drinks  and  indicates  by  gestures 
that  she  can  stand  alone. 
TETE-D'OR  :     Who  are  you,  young  girl  ? 

(She  shakes  her  head,  indicating  by  gestures 
that  she  does  not  understand. 
123 


TSTE-D'OR 

A  CAPTAIN:     Doubtless  she  does  not  understand  any 
language. 

(She  opens  her  mouth,  indicating  by  gestures 

that  she  is  hungry. 
TETE-D'OR:     She   is  hungry.      (He  gives   her  a  bit  of 

black  bread.) 

Take  my  bread.     Eat,  innocent  creature ! 
THE  CAPTAIN:     Sire,  will  you  not  keep  this  bread  for 

yourself?    For  the  day  will  be  long  and  hard. 
TETE-D'OR:     I   am  not  hungry.     And  see  how  she  is 
clothed  against  the  chills  of  the  night  in  this  bleak 
place. 
Take  my  cloak  also,  young  girl. 

(He  puts  his  cloak  around  her  shoulders. 
Forward! 
A  CAPTAIN:     Go  before  us,  Cassius. 

— O  herald,  your  armor  mirrors  the  red  disk  of  the 
sun,  and  you  are  all  agleam ! 

( They  go  out. 

(The  PRINCESS  eats  the  bread. 

THE  DESERTER  (starting  up  from  the  thicket  where  he 
had  been  lying  in  wait}  :     Give  me  your  bread! 

(He  throws  himself  upon  her  and  snatches  the 

bread  away  from  her. 
THE  PRINCESS  (crying  out)  :     Leave  me  a  little  of  the 

bread! 

THE  DESERTER:    What's  this?  You  speak  my  language ? 
Wait !    Wait  a  little ! 

(He  stares  at  her  long  and  attentively,  then  he 

begins  to  laugh. 
A-a-a-h! 

(He  doffs  his  hat  and  awkwardly  makes  a  -pre- 
tence   of    bowing,    in    mockery.      Then    he 
124 


ACT  III 

stares  at  her  chuckling  without  saying  any- 
thing. 
A-a-a-h ! 

Oh,  this  is  good! 

How  does  it  happen  that  you  are  here? 
Don't  pretend  that  you  can't  understand  what  I  say. 
See,  the  red  is  creeping  to  your  cheeks.     Ah !    Ah ! 
Answer ! 
Do  you  think  I  don't  know  you?    Others  perhaps  might 

not  recognise  you,  but  I,  I  recognise  you ! 
THE  PRINCESS  :     I  think  you  do  not  know  me. 
THE  DESERTER:     Ha!     (He  wags  his  head  and  winks 

knowingly.} 

You  are  the  daughter  of  the  old  King. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Since  you  know  it,  be  ashamed ! 
THE  DESERTER:     Ashamed? 

See  if  I  am  ashamed!    Take  that  for  yourself  for  your 
"ashamed" ! 

(He  strikes  her  with  all  his  strength.  She  falls 
to  the  ground,  then,  rising,  she  stands  before 
him,  motionless. 

THE  DESERTER:     None  of  your  fine  airs  with  me ! 
We  are  alone  in  this  place,  we  two !    You  are  my  dog, 

I  can  kill  you  if  I  choose, 
One  by  one  I  can  cut  off  your  limbs  with  my  knife  if 

such  should  be  my  humor.     Do  you  hear? 
Now  it  is  my  turn ! 

Ah !  Ah !  So  you  do  not  recognise  me  ?  I  had  a  place 
in  the  palace,  in  the  kitchens!  Eh?  You  didn't 
trouble  your  pretty  head  about  the  likes  of  me !  It 
was  I  who  seasoned  the  dishes  to  suit  your  gullet. 
And  you  thought  of  me  no  more  than  if  I  had  been  a 
rat,  or  a  snake  in  the  cranny  of  a  wall. 

125 


TfiTE-D'OR 

But  I,  I  knew  you  well  and  I  hated  you,  believe  me! 

Oh! 
And  here  you  are  in  my  hands  and  I  can  do  with  you 

as  I  will. 

THE  PRINCESS:     What  have  I  done? 
THE  DESERTER  :     Why  was  your  father,  old  scamp  that 

he  was,  made  king  instead  of  me? 
If  I  had  had  education  I  should  have  been  as  good  a 

king. 

What  is  the  reason  that  some  have  more  than  others? 
Why  is  it  that  some  have  all  they  want,  as  much  as  they 
wish  to  drink  and  eat,  and  that  others  have  nothing 
at  all? 

Perhaps  you  think  I  can  live  on  bricks,  eh? 
I  am  a  married  man  and  I  had  children  dependent  on 
me,  yet  I  had  to  work  in  the  fields.    I  was  not  made 
for  that  sort  of  labor,  I  have  my  certificate. 
And  these  rascal  landlords  leave  you  nothing  at  all. 
And  they  took  me  away  to  the  war !     What  has  their 

war  to  do  with  me? 

Does  one  murder  women  when  they  are  with  child? 
Why  have  they  taken  me?    Why  are  my  children  both 

of  them  lying  dead? 

Answer,  trull,  can  one  live  without  eating? 
THE  PRINCESS  :     You  can  answer  that  yourself,  you  that 

took  the  bread  that  I  had. 
THE  DESERTER:     That    bread?      What    is    it,    bread? 

With  what  is  it  made,  bread? 
THE  PRINCESS:     With  barley  or  rye. 
THE  DESERTER:     You  know  that,  eh?    Who  is  it  that 

grows  the  barley  or  the  rye? 

Who  reaps  it?     Who  threshes  it?     Who  grinds  it? 
Who  makes  it  into  bread? 
126 


ACT  III 

If  the  bread  were  turned  to  someone  who  had  a  nose 

and  a  mouth  and  it  commanded  you  to  do  its  will 
Would  you  not  have  to  obey? 

And  the  maker  of  the  bread,  is  he  not  the  bread  itself? 
Yet  he  has  not  even  the  right  to  keep  it  for  himself, 

but  here  I  take  it  from  you  again,  by  force. 
— So  come  here  !     Here,  I  say ! 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Since  you  are  my  master,  I  am  here. 

You  can  kill  me  if  you  wish. 
THE  DESERTER  (taking  her  by  the  hand]  :     Come. 
THE  PRINCESS:     What  do  you  mean  to  do  with  me? 

Why  do  you  take  me  beneath  this  gloomy  tree? 
THE  DESERTER  :     There  is  a  hawk  that  someone  has 
fastened  by  the  wings  to  the  trunk  of  this  pine  with 
two  nails.     See  how  its  head  droops. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     It  is  a  very  barbarous  custom. 
THE  DESERTER  :     Presently  you  will  replace  that  bird. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     What  did  you  say?    You  are  not  think- 

'ing  of  doing  what  you  say? 
Ah!    Ah! 
You  will  not  fasten  me  to  that  tree  like  a  bird  that  one 

nails  by  the  wings! 

THE  DESERTER  (pulling  out  the  nails)  :  They  do  not 
hold  firmly. — They  can  be  used  again.  That  stone 
will  be  my  hammer. 

THE  PRINCESS:     Ah!    Ah!    Ah!    Ah!    Ah! 
THE  DESERTER:     Give  me  your  hands. 
THE  PRINCESS   (hiding  her  hands  and  smiling  with  ter- 
ror} :     No!     No! 
THE  DESERTER:     You  do  not  wish  it?    Of  what  use  are 

they? 

THE  PRINCESS  :     I  tell  you  this,  my  friend.    These  hands 
that  do  not  know  how  to  work 
127 


TfiTE-D'OR 

Could  bring  a  better  nourishment  than  bread, 

Although  I  know  how  to  make  bread  as  well. 

And  you,  what  prompts  you  to  devour  me? 

And  those  who  saw  me  took  no  thought  of  food  and, 

young  or  old,  their  hearts  burned  within  them. 
Alas,  my  beauty  has  abandoned  me!     If  it  were  other- 
wise you  would  not  wish  to  kill  me  nor  would  you 

have  humiliated  me  in  such  rude  fashion,   striking 

me  in  the  face. 
What  have  I  done? 
Do  not  kill  me !     Merely  because  I  cannot  work  like 

you 

Do  I  deserve  this  horrible  punishment, 
Dying  so  slowly,  my  two  hands  pierced  with  nails? 
Do  not  do  it,  lest  those  that  love  me 
Should  not  accept  the  excuse  that  you  did  not  know 

who  I  am  and  your  name  should  be  a  thing  accursed 

forever. 
For  I  was  the  honor  of  our  native  land  and  there  is 

no  more  beauty  there  since  I  am  there  no  longer. 
And  what  will  they  say  if  they  learn  that  it  was  you 

who  killed  me,  nailing  me  thus? 
THE  DESERTER  (sharpening  the  nails  on  a  stone)  :  What 

use  are  all  these  words? 
THE  PRINCESS:     Clod,  I  am  a  queen! 
The  highest  dignity 
To  which  humanity  can  attain  was  mine,  nor  can  you 

take  it  away. 

Who  am  I  ?    Who  are  you  ?    Look  me  in  the  eyes. 
Will  you  dare  to  raise  your  hand  against  me?     What 

common  ground  can  there  be  between  me  and  you? 
THE  DESERTER  :     You  will  know  it  through  your  hands. 

128 


ACT  III 

( The   PRINCESS   raises   her   hands   and  places 

them  against  the  trunk  of  the  tree. 

THE  PRINCESS:     Very  well.    Where  shall  I  place  them? 
THE  DESERTER:     Here.     Raise  your  hands. 
I  am  not  tall  enough.    Stay  where  you  are. 

(He  finds   a   large  stone   and   mounts    on   it. 
Seizing   the  right  arm   of  the  PRINCESS  he 
fastens  it  to  the  tree  with  a  cord;  then  spread- 
ing out  the  fingers  he  manages  with  much 
difficulty  to  drive  a  nail  through  the  hand. 
THE  PRINCESS  (shrieking}  :     Ah!     Ah! 
Ah!  ah! 
Ah!   ah! 

0  heavens ! 

THE  DESERTER  :     The  left  hand. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Here  it  is. 

(He  nails  the  left  hand  in  the  same  way,  then 

descends  from  the  stone. 

THE  DESERTER:     You  did  not  cry  that  time,  eh? 
THE  PRINCESS  (spitting  in  his  face}  : 

1  despise  you,  gross  brute ! 

The  blood  jets  from  my  hands!     But  in  spite  of  these 
arms  made  fast  above  my  head,  I  remain  what  I 
have  been. 
THE  DESERTER  :     Take  care  that  I  do  not  kill  you  before 

your  time ! 

THE  PRINCESS  :     Go ! 
THE  DESERTER  :     Won't  you  bid  me  good-bye  ?    Won't 

you  clasp  me  by  the  hand? 
THE  PRINCESS  :     I  am  fastened  to  this  post,  but  my  royal 

soul 

Is  unimpaired  and  therefore 
This  place  has  all  the  honor  of  a  throne. 

129 


T£TE-D'OR 

THE  DESERTER:     Now  I  can  eat  my  bread. 

(He  slowly  eats  his  bread  to  the  last  mouthful, 
without  removing  his   eyes  from   her,   and, 
picking  up  the  crumbs,  he  swallows  them. 
THE  DESERTER:     Fasten  the  pelt  more  closely  around 
your  shoulders  for  it  exposes  the  flesh  beneath  the 
arm,  and  it  is  not  fitting  you  should  uncover  yourself 
so  before  a  man. 
Ah!     Ah!     The  tears   are  flowing  from  your  eyes! 

Now  I  can  die,  for  I  have  seen  you  weep ! 
Stay  where  you  are.    With  night  the  wolves  will  come 
And,  rearing  up,  they  will  rend  you  piece-meal  and 

tear  your  limbs  from  your  body, 
And  the  ravens  will  pluck  out  your  eyes. 
Stay  there  and  die. 

(He  goes  out. 

THE  PRINCESS  (shrieking  suddenly}  :    Ahh!  Ahh!  Ahh! 
Oh!    (She  stops  as  if  stifled.) 

0  hands  by  which  I  am  fixed  as  the  vine  is  fastened  to 
the  wall! 

— O  light  that  fills  all  space !  O  sun  that  makes  the 
day,  like  a  judge  considering  everything! 

See  me  pinioned  thus,  and  these  nails  that  are  buried 
up  to  the  head  in  my  hands. 

It  is  morning  still  and  I  shall  remain  till  noon, 

And  till  evening  and  till  I  am  dead. 

But  this  is  as  it  should  be  and  I  shall  not  complain. 

1  shall  die  erect 

As  is  most  fitting  for  one  of  a  kingly  race. 

O  hands,  I  had  dreamed  that  some  day  I  should  bring 

you  both  to  my  husband 

That  he  might  bind  you  with  the  bonds  of  wedlock, 
But  these  nails  are  more  suitable. 

130 


ACT  III 

My  blood  jets  on  high  and  it  falls  upon  my  head  and 

runs  down  my  body ! 
Ah!    Ah! 
My  arms  are  heavy  as  lead! 

0  God!     My  feet  are  free  and  I  can  only  stamp  on 
the  earth. 

And  if  I  remain,  resting  so  on  both  feet, 

1  pull  on  the  nails  and  stifle  and  suffer  intolerable  pain ! 
But  if  I  stand  on  tiptoe,  my  strength  is  soon  gone. 

O  God,  have  pity  on  me ! 

(Long  silence  which  is  supposed  to  last  many 
hours  and  during  which  the  stage  remains 
empty. 

(Enter  from  the  left  the  STANDARD  BEARER  on 
horseback  with  the  SUBALTERNS  and  the 
Escort.  The  FIRST  SUBALTERN  mounts 
upon  a  rock. 

THE  STANDARD  BEARER:     What  do  you  see? 
THE  SUBALTERN  :     Nothing.     The  mountain  shuts  off 

the  view  on  this  side. 
THE  SECOND  SUBALTERN:     Why  is  it  that  the  King  did 

not  take  his  standard  with  him? 

THE  STANDARD  BEARER  :     I  do  not  know  for  till  to-day 
I  always  stood  at  his  side,  when,  at  the  crisis  of  the 
battle,  he  mounted  on  his  horse, 
Holding  the  banner  on  which  is  shown  the  black  and 

terrible  eagle 
That  soars  towards  the  sun  with  the  corpse  of  a  man 

in  his  talons. 
And  the  sun  one  does  not  see,  but  all  the  banner  is  of 

the  color  of  gold. 

But  to-day  he  bade  me  remain  behind  at  the  place  that 
commands  the  deep  defile 


TfrTE-D'OR 

And  wait  till  he  returned  or  gave  the  signal. 
THE  FIRST  SUBALTERN  :     The   standard  hangs  without 

movement  upon  its  staff. 

THE  STANDARD  BEARER  :     And  we  also  remain  motion- 
less at  this  threshold  of  the  world. 
By  what  a  path  we  have  come,  rising  out  of  the  West 

like  a  bird! 

O  young  man  new  to  the  army, 
Assuredly  you  will  see  the  King  of  the  world  reigning, 

but  you  have  not  seen  what  we  have  seen ! 
Terror  and  bewilderment  march  before  him,  and,  as 

if  they  did  not  know  how  to  use  them, 
Armies  lay  down  their  arms  upon  the  ground. 
He  has  appeared  in  the  midst  of  cowards, 
He  has  rushed  among  the  multitudes  like  a  lion  attack- 
ing a  drove  of  pigs ! 
And  they  have  arisen  against  him  like  the  sea,  and  they 

have  subsided  and  lapped  the  dust  at  his  feet. 
And  now  we  appear  at  the  door,  confronting  ancient 
Asia! 

(Gust  of  wind.     Confused  clamor  in  the  dis- 
tance. 

THE  FIRST  SUBALTERN :     Do  you  hear? 
THE  SECOND  SUBALTERN:     At  this  very  moment  the 
battle  is  being  fought. 

(Pause. 

And  what  are  we  going  to  do  now? 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER:     First  for  a  long  time 

We  must  march  across  the  level  plain. 
THE  FIRST  SUBALTERN:     And  then  they  say  we  shall 

come  upon  a  mountain 

So  high  that  it  touches  heaven,  and  out  of  heaven  itself 
Four  rivers,  as  white  as  milk,  descend  to  earth. 

132 


ACT  III 

And  passing  on  we  shall  behold  again 

The  sea,  like  a  brimming  cup. 

A  land  of  gold  is  there  and  its  fragrance  alone  is  so 

sweet 
That  it  seems  as  if  the  soul  were  drawn  from  the  body 

as  in  a  dream 

And  in  the  exultation  of  the  woman  who  conceives. 
The  monkeys  hide  in  flowering  trees  and  the  sand  has 

the  scent  of  olives 
And  the  submarine  volcanoes  appear  like  sunken  lotus 

flowers  and  like  fountains  of. gushing  wine! 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER  :     All's  one ! 

My  will  is  to  do  the  will  of  the  King  and  to  take  my 

stand  at  his  side 
Holding  the  Standard,  and  such  is  my  portion  of  the 

earth. 
Assuredly  it  is  just  that  we  should  adore  like  a  god  one 

who  commands  with  wisdom. 

His  heart  is  profound  and  he  has  been  given  the  knowl- 
edge of  how  to  rule. 
Thus  his  power  increases,   image  of  boldness  divine 

and  of  justice  that  cannot  be  moved, 
Like  a  tree  above  a  well  where  men  and  herds  come 

to  drink. 

And  his  spirit  is  like  a  marvellous  fig  tree 
Together  disclosing  the  flowers  and  the  fruit. 
THE  FIRST  SUBALTERN  :     As  for  the  army  that  he  has 

brought  to  this  place — 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER  :     Never  has  such  an  army  been 

seen !    And  one  would  think  it  was  led  by  Love  him- 
self. 
All  see  it  from  afar  like  a  golden  flower  in  the  grass, 

133 


TfrTE-D'OR 

And,  dearer  than  the  face  of  his  wife,   each  one  of 

these  gross  men 

Bears  graven  on  his  heart  the  holy  image  of  the  King. 
And  there  is  no  question  of  officers  and  soldiers,  but 

each  one 
Takes  his  part  like  a  musician  and  they  form  a  single 

body, 
And  death  has  lost  its  meaning. 

(Pause.     Vague  clamor  in  the  distance.     All 

keep  their  eyes  fixed  on  the  Standard. 
THE  FIRST  SUBALTERN:     He  has  left  behind  the  ancient 

flag. 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER  :     The  Standard  of  the  Empire 

is  here,  but  they  march  under  various  ensigns. 
Many  bear  the  image  of  the  Sun 
Who  embraces  the  Heaven  and  the  Earth,  and  arms 

go  out  from  his  radiance. 
Fishermen  in  a  bark  are  throwing  their  net  about  him, 

spurred  foresters  are  mounting  towards  him  through 

the  spreading  oaks. 
And  those  who  have  come  from  the  place  where  the 

earth  comes  to  an  end 
Hoist  ocean  weeds  or  the  lead  of  the  sounding-line, 

and  floating  above  them  one  sees 
The  Sword-fish  with  scarlet  fins,  or  the  god  of  the  Sea, 

with  eyes  of  horn,  disgorging  his  tongue  like  a  stone, 
Or  the  salutary  sign  of  the  cross  with  equal  branches: 
And  such  are  the  signs  of  those  who  live  on  the  brink 

of  the  deep  abyss. 
Other  flags  are  green  like  a  field,  and  grass  is  fastened 

there  and  the  hair  of  animals  and  bones  and  sacks 

of  earth. 
The  image  of  the  wheat  arises  from  the  furrow  amidst 

134 


ACT  III 

a  flight  of  pigeons  with  outspread  wings;  and  words 

come  out  of  the  mouth, 

And  the  vine  like  a  woman  is  bound  upon  the  wine- 
press; 

And  something  also  recalls  the  Sun 
When  in  September,  after  the  harvest  is  gathered, 
Like  a  pontiff  who  prostrates  himself,  he  piously  kisses 

the  naked  earth. 
Others  still!     And  they  represent  nothing  defined,  but 

are  like  a  field  of  flowering  buckwheat, 
Or  the  shimmering  azure,  full  of  the  leaves  of  pear- 
trees,   when   seen  through   the   fringe   of   drooping 

lashes, 

Or  an  irruption  of  bees,  or  the  seducing  sea ! 
And   others,    stiff    with    embroidery,    embody    curious 

legends, 

A  reaper  plies  his  scythe;  a  naked  man 
Grasping  a  whip  in  both  hands  is  fighting  a  four-winged 

eagle  of  silver. 
And  others  portray  strange  dreams;  the  disk  of  the 

moon, 

Dragons,  panthers  that  eat  the  gods, 
Or  roses,  and  an  embroidered  briar. 
But  I  could  not  tell  you  all  the  signs  though  I  were  to 

speak  forever. 
THE  SECOND  SUBALTERN  :     There  is  one  that  you  did 

not  mention. 

(A  great  square  of  silk  is  hoisted  above  one  of 

the  mountains  to  the  East. 
THE  FIRST  SUBALTERN  :     Eh  ? 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER  :    I  do  not  know  what  it  is !    I 

do  not  know  what  this  means ! 

135 


TfiTE-D'OR 

(A  trumpet  is  heard  sounding  clearly  as  if  it 

announced  something. 

THE  FIRST  SUBALTERN  (shouting]  :     Listen! 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER:     I  hear  and  I  do  not  under- 
stand! 
But  I   am  struck  with  horror  and  my  soul  putrefies 

within  me. 

THE  FIRST  SUBALTERN:  How  that  ominous  flag  flaps  in 
the  wind. 

(Pause. 
VOICE  (calling  from  below)  :     Ho! 

(Echo. 

THE  SECOND  SUBALTERN  (bending  over  the  precipice]  : 
There  is  someone  below  who  signals  that  he  wishes 
to  come  up. 

THE  STANDARD  BEARER:    Make  fast  the  tackle. 
Lower  away  the  cord. 

(  They  do  as  he  says.    The  cord  runs  out.    Then 

the  soldiers  pull  it  up  and  after  a  time  an 

armed  man  appears  hanging  from  the  rope. 

He  comes  to  the  ground. 

THE  STANDARD  BEARER:     Who  are  you,  O  man  that 

rises  from  the  depths? 
THE  MESSENGER:     Prostrate  yourselves  before  me,  for 

on  my  tongue  sits  death ! 

I  will  tell  you  what  I  saw,  and  why  I  fled  and  could  not 
stay  where  I  was,  and  called  to  you  to  draw  me  up 
to  this  place  and  not  to  leave  me  below. 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER  :    Say  no  more ! 
THE  MESSENGER:     I  will  announce  the  accursed  thing 
That  you  may  fall  to  the  earth  like  men  deprived  of 

life, 
For  the  King  of  men  is  dead. 

136 


ACT  III 

ALL  (crying  aloud]  :    Ho!  ho! 

THE  MESSENGER  :    At  least  I  will  tell  what  I  know,  for 
our  detail  was  on  guard  at  the  crest  of  the  mountain 
yonder, 
And  we  saw  our  army  advance  in  good  order  across 

the  plain,  and  the  men  were  like  tiny  specks. 
And  at  noon  they  stopped  to  eat,  and  then  resumed 

their  march,  and  always  we  followed  them. 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER:    Well?    Well? 
THE  MESSENGER:    Then  a  smoke  arose  from  the  earth 
and  a  thick  dust  blown  by  a  violent  wind,  blotting 
out  the  army, 
And  for  long  it  hung  above  them  so  that  we  saw  them 

no  more. 

But  when  it  was  dissipated  we  perceived 
An  infinite  army  advancing  to  oppose  them. 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER  :    It  is  impossible !  From  whence 

would  it  come  ? 
THE  MESSENGER:     I  do  not  know.     Perhaps  the  wind 

brought  them  like  lice. 
But  still  we  looked  and,  listen  well  to  this, 
We  saw  our  army  fleeing. 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER:    What  tale  is  this? 

Surely  the  dust  was  in  your  eyes. 
THE  MESSENGER:     I  say  that  they  fled!     And  not  one 

of  them  remained 

But  we  saw  them  run  as  fast  as  they  were  able. 
And  one  man  only  remained,  alone  in  the  midst  of  the 

plain  and  we  recognised  who  it  was 
And  then  it  was  that  I  also 
Fled,  wishing  to  see  no  more. 

(Profound  silence.    Pause. 

137 


TfiTE-D'OR 

THE  FIRST  SUBALTERN  (bending  over  the  precipice]  :    I 

see  a  crowd  of  men  approaching  at  a  gallop. 
MANY  VOICES  (calling  from  below)  :    Ho! 

(Echo. 
( They  let  down  the  rope  after  having  fastened 

a  large  plank  to  it  by  means  of  chains. 
( The  soldiers  hoist  the  tackle.  And  soon  over 
the  brink  of  the  precipice,  on  the  plank  where 
lies  the  body  of  TETE-D'OR,  emerges  the 
group  of  Captains,  so  crowded  that  some 
dangle  their  legs  in  the  void,  and  others  are 
clinging  to  the  chains. 

( The  group  rises  almost  to  the  height  of  the 
sun,  which  it  obscures,  then  the  tackle  turns 
and  the  plank  slowly  descends  to  the  earth. 
They  alight. 

A  CAPTAIN  (shouting  and  indicating  the  Standard  with 
a  gesture}  :  Rend  the  silk  from  the  ensign  and  tear 
the  banner  in  two ! 

And  take  the  staff  and  break  it  over  your  knee ! 
For  now  the  eagle  returns  from  a  dolorous  flight 
Bearing  the  corpse  of  a  man  in  its  talons. 
See  what  we  bring,  as  we  rise  to  this  bleak  and  lofty 

place, 

That  here  we  may  hold  the  rites  of  burial,  on  this 
portal  of  the  world,  at  this  place  whence  all  the  earth 
is  visible. 

Thus  about  this  dead  body  we  re-assemble  like  birds. 
Begone  from  us,  O  sun ! 

SECOND  :    O  Tete-d'or !    O  master !    O  King !    O  King ! 
We  have  soared  to  this  place,  all  your  eaglets,  bearing 

you  back  with  us. 
O  dead  body ! 

138 


ACT  III 

Let  the  woman  weep  over  her  first-born  son !     The 

man  shall  cry,  mourning  the  death  of  his  King,  and 

tears  shall  appear  on  his  face, 
And  he  shall  not  be  comforted. 
THIRD:     Begone  from  us,  O  sun!     Leave  us  alone  and 

insult  us  no  longer. 
Now  the  earth  turns  its  face  towards  night,  and  you, 

who  stood  in  your  place  like  a  mountain,  disappear  1 

You  see  this,  Father! 
Look,  we  reveal  him  to  you,  that  you  may  put  your 

mouth  on  our  misery! 
Now  leave  us  alone  that  we  may  mourn  this  prey  that 

we  hold  between  our  hands. 
O  King!     O  King! 
Like  the  Angel  that  bears  the  seal  of  life  you  rose 

towards  the  Unchanging! 
And  now  we  bring  you  back  with  us,  having  lifted  you 

from  the  ground. 

Gaze  upon  this !     Behold  it,  mountains,  and  you  O  for- 
ests, that  sprang  from  the  fraternal  tree ! 
Let  a  shudder  run  through  the  roots  of  all  that  grows 

because  the  King  of  men  is  dead! 
O  malediction  on  man!     O  death!     O  condemnation! 

O  prisoning  place !     O  horror  of  the  place  in  which 

we  are! 

OKing!    OKing! 
You  are  dead  and  it  is  death  we  are  holding  in  our 

hands ! 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER:     Stop!     Put  an  end  to  this 

fury! — You  force  me  to  speak. 
Grief,  arises  within  me  like  the  longing  to  vomit  felt 

by  a  woman  with  child, 
And  the  tears  that  I  would  shed 

139 


T£TE-D'OR 

Freeze,  as  when  Christmas  time  prevents  the  winter 

from  weeping! 
— Here !     Lay  him  here,  with  funereal  pomp  expose 

the  royal  body 

On  this  square  rock  employed  in  ancient  rites, 
That  the  form  of  the  bleeding  man  may  there  appear 

once  more 
In  the  eyes  of  the  heavens  and  the  earth ! 

( They  raise  the  body. 
So  your  army  was  defeated? 

THE  CAPTAIN:     Know  that  we  were  victorious.     All  is 
ended. 

( The  body  is  laid  upon  the  rock. 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER  :    Behold  it !    See ! 

Head!     Hands!     O  body  defiled  and  stained!     Is  it 

thus  he  is  stretched  supine ! 
He  lies 

Bleeding,  eyes  closed,  teeth  showing, 
His  cheeks  all  crusted  with  sand ! 
Fetch  water!     Wash  him!     Let  one  of  you  become 

his  serving-maid! 
Here  we  are  one  beside  the  other 
Like  heirs  in  the  empty  house  of  a  dead  man. 

( They  remove  his  helmet  and  loosen  his  hair. 
CASSIUS  (howling]  :    O  hair! 

O  master!     Master!     Who  will  give  Cassius  another 
pang  to  satisfy  his  passion! 

(He  tears  his  face. 

Oh !   that  my  nails  would  fill  themselves  with  foulness ! 
That  my  limbs,  that  this  frame 
Would  grow  old  and  like  the  charred  log  cover  itself 

with  scales  of  ash! 
That  this  snout 

140 


ACT  III 

Would  grow  the  tusks  of  a  boar  and  dig  the  earth  like 

a  ploughshare ! 

Our  leader  is  dead.    O  beasts,  my  brothers,  hail ! 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER  (to  one  of  these  who  is  caring 

for  TETE-D'OR)  :     You  hold  his  hair  on  your  arm 

and  you  bury  there  the  comb. 
And  also  the  comb  buries  itself  in  my  soul  and  I  see 

this  as  though  it  were  in  a  dream. 
O  soldiers,  what  has  happened? 
THE  CENTURION:    What  do  you  wish  to  know? 

Is  not  this  enough?    What  more  do  you  wish  to  learn? 
Cursed  be  this  country  into  which  we  have  come ! 
CASSIUS  :     It  is  I  who  will  speak  and  tell  you  everything. 
And  as  it  was  I  who  announced  victory  so  now  shall  I 

proclaim  death! 
Certainly  death  was  our  guide 
When  counter  to  the  course  of  the  sun  we  advanced 

across  the  infinite  plain 

And,  looking  back,  beheld  the  mountains  behind  us. 
At  noon  we  sat  and  ate,  then  we  took  up  our  march 

again. 

But  know  that  the  heat  was  intolerable 
And  under  the  weight  of  their  packs  and  arms  the 

soldiers  died  like  flies, 

For  the  sun  consumed  us  and  we  could  find  no  shelter. 
And  at  two  o'clock  the  wind  arose,  blowing  the  sand, 
And  we  remained  there  swallowed  up  like  men  engulfed 

in  the  earth, 

And  when  we  emerged  from  the  dust, 
We  saw  the  red  sun  burning  above  our  heads  like  a 

Moloch, 

And  before  us  there  lay  an  army. 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER:    But  what  army? 

141 


TfiTE-D'OR 

CASSIUS  :     Be  still  and  do  not  uselessly  interrupt  me. 

Assuredly  antique  humanity  had  come  before  its  sister. 

And  as  of  old  on  the  day  of  the  separation  we  carefully 
considered  one  another. 

Their  faces  are  nearer  than  ours  to  the  color  of  the 
earth, 

And  we  saw  in  their  hands  the  primitive  arms  and  tools, 
and  in  their  midst  were  set  the  kings  and  the  chief- 
tains, and  above  their  heads  the  ancient  idols  swayed, 

The  squatting,  three-faced  monsters,  each  brandishing 
six  pairs  of  arms, 

And  camels  also  were  there  and  ranks  of  elephants,  and 
tigers  in  wooden  cages, 

And  we  heard  the  hollow  thunder  of  gongs. 

Thus  we  gazed  at  each  other, 

For  our  forebears  descended  on  Europe,  who  like  a 
man  with  outstretched  arms  lies  upon  the  bosom  of 
the  waters, 

And  theirs  remained  to  multiply  in  the  place  in  which 
they  were. 

And  we  had  lived  our  life  in  war  and  in  tears,  beset 

By  the  spirits  of  turbulence  and  wrath  that  rise  from 
the  restless  and  uninhabited  sea. 

And  over  them  with  hangman's  hands  had  been  se- 
curely established  the  domination 

Of  Brahma,  Prince  of  Error,  and  Buddha,  the  demon 
of  Peace, 

And  above  us  burned  the  inflamed  face  of  the  sun. 
VOICE  :     O ! 
CASSIUS:     There  we  were, 

Hair  full  of  sand,  wading  in  sand  up  to  the  fleshy  part 
of  the  leg, 

And  seeing  that  multitude  confronting  us, 

142 


ACT  III 

Fear  entered  into  us  and  a  distaste  for  fighting,  and 
for  going  forward  forever  on  the  face  of  that  desert 
land. 

And  we  saw  that  we  were  few  and  dispersed  and  our 
cannon  were  sunk  in  the  sand. 

And  the  King  exhorted  us,  stretching  out  his  arms, 

And  he  pushed  his  horse  here  and  there,  but  we  did  not 
listen  to  him, 

And  we  did  not  turn  our  eyes  away  from  the  foe, 

And  from  their  ranks. 

As  the  nomads  of  the  caravans  are  wont  to  cry  to  each 
other  with  an  enormous  perforated  shell,  we  heard 
the  blowing  of  a  conch  or  horn! 

O  but  the  sound  was  sad  and  harsh ! 
VOICE  :     O ! 
CASSIUS  :     Thus  did  this  primal  people  speak  to  us. 

And  nothing  could  longer  restrain  us,  but  the  army  like 
one  man  irresistibly  recoiled. 

And,  O  shame,  they  began  to  flee ! 
VOICE:     O!  O! 

CASSIUS  :     This  the  King  saw  and  he  did  not  try  to  pre- 
vent it,  and  he  alone  remained. 

Then  he  threw  his  sword  to  the  ground,  and  dismount- 
ing from  his  horse  he  unbridled  it. 

And  alone  he  advanced  against  the  opposing  army, 
holding  the  bit  to  heaven, 

Thus  we  saw  him  advance 

Like  a  wrathful  pigeon  that  leaps  towards  the  female 

dragging  its  wings. 
VOICE  :     O ! 

CASSIUS:     This  we  saw!     And  they  threw  themselves 
upon  him  tooth  and  nail  like  savage  rats. 

And  there  were  some  who  took  him  by  the  arms  and 

143 


TSTE-D'OR 

others  by  the  legs  and  others  caught  at  his  head 

from  behind, 
And  we,  unhappy  wretches,  we  saw  him  towering  out 

of  the  midst  of  them,  engulfed  as  far  as  the  girdle. 
And  he  struggled  like  a  horse  that  dogs  have  gripped 

by  the  ears 

Crying  out  in  a  dreadful  voice,  and  with  his  loins  drag- 
ging his  living  prison  this  way  and  that ! 
And  there  was  one  who,  holding  his  sword  in  both 

hands, 
Sought  for  the  joint  of  the  armor,  like  a  cook  who 

opens  a  crab  with  the  point  of  a  knife. 
VOICE:     O! 
CASSIUS  :     O ! 

What  a  clear  and  poignant  cry  we  heard  him  give,  like 

mighty  Pallas  feeling  the  grasp  of  the  Satyr, 
Such  that  the  memory  of  it  made 
Our  bones  vibrate  like  instruments! 
And  we  recognised  the  voice  as  the  woman  knows  the 

cry  of  her  mate, 
And  we  also  cried  aloud  and  in  frantic  haste  rushed 

forward. 
Three  times  we  charged  that  multitude,  and  in  the  end, 

yielding  beneath  our  despair,  they  scattered  like  a 

flock. 

And  as  the  affrighted  Hindu 
Turns  in  his  course 

To  watch  the  wounded  elephant,  mad  with  pain, 
Who  pursues  him  like  a  mountain  across  the  dazzling 

ricefields,  thus  they  saw  our  army  charging  close  at 

their  heels. 

And  we  found  our  king  again,  lying  upon  the  ground, 
Like  a  sack  of  gold  that  robbers  had  abandoned, 

144 


ACT  III          

Dead,  bereft  of  breath. 

And  now  we  return  bearing  away  this  spoil. 
VOICE  :     O !      Alas !      O  King,  O  King ! 
CASSIUS:     Cry  louder!    Let  the  earth  be  broken  in  two! 
Let  the  revelation  of  the  sun  be  quenched ! 
Let  the  Tree  of  Eternity,  that  like  oranges  bears  the 

worlds 

And  like  apples  and  like  sugared  figs  and  grapes, 
Crash  down  its  roots  in  air ! 
For  man  has  terminated  here  his  greatest  enterprise. 

Now  all  is  ended. 
And  he  did  not  prevail 

Against  the  power  that  holds  things  in  place. 
Cry  louder ! 
Let  your  tears  pour  forth  in  floods !    Go  to  your  homes 

and  throw  yourselves  on  the  ground ! 
As  for  me,  O  King,  I  loved  you. 
You  were  my  life  and  with  wonder  I  looked  upon  you, 

King  of  men ! 

And  your  herald  goes  before  you ! 
Hark  to  the  voice  of  the  herald !    Everything  is  ended. 
All  effort  has  come  to  its  vain  conclusion. 
— And  I,  Cassius,  having  proclaimed  these  tidings, 
I  disappear. 

(He  throws  himself  over  the  precipice. 

(Pause. 
(Someone  approaches  and  bends  over  the  body 

of  TETE-D'OR. 

THE  CENTURION  :     What  is  he  doing? 
A  CAPTAIN:     It  is  the  surgeon. 
THE  CENTURION:     At  what  is  he  looking?    The  King 

is  dead. 
ANOTHER  :     No,  for  the  body  is  not  yet  rigid. 

H5 


T£TE-D'OR 

ANOTHER:     What  did  you  say?    Have  we  brought  him 
back  with  us  alive? 

( The  SURGEON  signs  to  them  to  stop  talking. 

(Silence. 

ONE  OF  THE  BYSTANDERS:     Well? 
THE  SURGEON:     Give  me  the  sponge.     Help  me.     Re- 
move his  cuirass. 
Gently! 
Loosen  his  clothes  at  the  throat. 

( They  do  as  he  says. 

A  CAPTAIN  :     O  reddened  body !    O  mutilated  body ! 
ANOTHER:     The  bleeding  has  stopped. 

( The  SURGEON  puts  his   ear  to   the  chest  of 

TETE-D'OR. Silence. 

THE    CENTURION    (aside]  :     For    what    does    he    still 

search? 
FIRST  CAPTAIN  :     He  is  clever.     He  has  the  ear  of  a 

maker  of  clocks. 
He  listens  like  a  mole. 
THE  SURGEON  (rising)  :     He  lives. 
THE  CENTURION :     He  lives?    Will  he  recover? 
THE  SURGEON:     No.     (He  buries  a  finger  in  one  of  the 

wounds.) 

THE  KING  (uttering  a  cry)  :     Ah! 
THE  CENTURION  :     He  is  coming  to  himself. 

(Pause.     The  KING  regains  consciousness  and 

looks  about  him. 

THE  KING:     Is  there  a  surgeon  here? 
THE  SURGEON  :     I  am  a  surgeon,  Sire. 
THE  KING:     Shall  I  die? 

( The  SURGEON,  who  is  washing  his  hands,  nods 
his  head. 

146 


ACT  III 

THE  KING:     Who  will  stand  before  me  and  gnash  his 
teeth  in  my  face,  and  swear 

That  I  am  only  a  sabre  of  wood  and  that,  like  some 
ridiculous  baby, 

I  have  brought  my  host  to  this  desert,  confounding 
marches  and  battles  with  things  in  story  books. 

Cowards ! 

Cowards, 

Cowards !  A  plague  upon  me  for  having  trusted  you, 
cowards ! 

I  have  been  thrown  to  the  ground  and  the  mob  has 
stamped  on  my  body, 

And  here  I  lie  struck  down  and  brought  to  nought ! 

Come,  do  not  be  afraid!  See,  I  am  weak  and  defence- 
less !  Throw  yourselves  upon  me  like  animals ! 

Beat  out  my  brains  with  your  clubs!     Strike!     Kick 

me  to  death  with  your  boots ! 

THE  SURGEON  :     Take  care.  You  have  started  the  bleed- 
ing again. 
THE  KING:     Let  each  of  these  new  eyes 

Pour  forth  its  sap  like  tears!  And  let  me  become  as 
red  as  Mars,  and  let  me  be  resplendent  with  your 
shame 

Like  a  mirror ! 

— But  were  you  conquerors? 
THE  CENTURION  :     We  were,  Sire. 
THE  KING:     I  have  no  strength.    I  can  do  nothing  more. 

0  stout  limbs  now  broken,  I,  I, 

1  lie  here  at  your  mercy,  more  feeble  than  a  debauched 

old  man, 

Than  some  vile  candle-end  whose  liquorous  eye  pours 
forth  its  flame!  This  wretched  body,  this  ignoble 
thing, 

147 


TfiTE-D'OR 

Refuses  to  my  soul  its  proper  speech! 

What  force  is  failing  me?     You  abandon  me,  Royal 

Power ! 

You  are  a  doctor? 
THE  SURGEON:     Yes. 
THE  KING:     Bring  me  health  to  drink  in  a  cup  and  hold 

it  to  my  lips  !     Restore  my  strength  again ! 
I  have  no  more  power !   I  myself  cannot  be  born  again ! 
There,  there, — 

THE  SURGEON:     What  is  it  that  you  want? 
THE  KING:     There,  there,  all  about  me,  here, 

These  clothes   I   still  have   on,   these  plates   of  iron. 

Quickly ! 

Rid  me  of  these  rags.    Let  me  wholly  reveal  myself 
As  on  the  day  the  maternal  habitation  put  the  male  out 

of  doors  !     Let  me  be  naked ! 
O  healing  brews,  O  balms ! 
Linen  fresh  and  white,  envelop  me  in  linen! 
Wrap  me  in  a  napkin  like  a  loaf  of  bread! 

( They  do  as  he  says. 

THE  SURGEON:     You  are  feeling  better  now? 
THE  KING:     Bound  in  swaddling  bands  like  a  baby. 

(Pause. 

THE  CENTURION:     Simon! 

THE  KING:     What  name  do  I  hear?    Who  calls  me? 
THE  CENTURION  :     Agnel !    Simon  Agnel ! 
THE  KING:     Who  dares  to  call  me  so? 
THE  CENTURION:     I,  I  dare!    Let  me  weep  above  you, 

my  royal  brother! 

Here  you  lie  and  you  touch  the  earth  with  your  head. 
Arise,  stand  erect  and  draw  the  sword,  uplift  in  your 
hand  the  sceptre ! 

148 


ACT  III 

O  my  royal  brother,  prone  you  lie  on  the  ground  and 

I  am  bending  above  you! 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER  :     Alas,  O  King ! 
THE  COMMANDER  OF  THE  CAVALRY  :     Alas ! 
A  CAPTAIN  :     Alas ! 

ANOTHER:     Master,  master!     Do  you,  our  ruler,  aban- 
don us? 

THE  KING:     What  do  you  wish  of  me?    Devour  me ! 
THE  CENTURION  :     Ruined  stature  of  our  hope !    Image 

bloody  and  wasted! 

Open  your  arms  at  the  moment  of  your  death,  and 
press  to  your  breast  in  farewell,  the  sheaf  of  your 
geniuses  with  their  sublime  faces ! 
Whence    have    you    drawn    your    courage    and    your 

strength  ? 

Here  instruct  us,  lest  we  despair!     O 
Noble  effort,  you  disappear  whelmed  in  the  holocaust ! 

(Pause. 

THE  KING  (crying  out}  :     Ah!    Ah!    Ah! 
FIRST  CAPTAIN:     What  convulsion  seizes  him? 
THE  KING  (crying  out)  :     Ah,  ah,  alas!     Ah,  ah,  alas! 

Ah,  alas! 

SECOND  CAPTAIN:     He  remembers!     He   remembers! 
Wrath  enters  into  him  and  he  rears  himself  up  like 
a  half-killed  cat! 
THIRD  :     The  soul  in  such  crises  will  forget 

The  death  of  the  body,  even  as  a  woman  forgets  that 

she  is  naked. 
THE  KING:     My  dream!     My  dream! 

My  hope  torn  from  my  jaws,  and  wholly  lost ! 

Ah!    ah! 

Why 

149 


T£TE-D'OR  

Was  this  force  given  to  me  when  I  still  could  stand 

erect?    Why  this  desire 
Voracious,  obstinate,  insatiable? 
O  passion! 
O  soul  for  which  nothing  existed  too  great !     And  see, 

these  hands 

Clasp  the  void  and  take  hold  on  nothing ! 
O  vanquished  soul !    O  futile  thing  that  I  am ! 
Miserably,  O  miserably  have  I  been  cast  to  the  earth 

and  slain! 
THE  CENTURION  :     Answer  us,   Tete-d'or!     Who   will 

establish  justice  among  the  people?    The  justice  that 

rests  on  force? 
THE  KING:     Certainly  I  have  failed  in  my  promises. 

But  it  matters  little. — I  wish,  I  wish — 
THE  CENTURION  :     You  have  not  received,  having  given. 
THE  KING  :     I  could  not  do  it !    I  could  not  do  it,  I  am 

not  a  god. 
In  what  have  I  been  lacking?    Where  do  you  find  my 

fault? 
(He  tears  of  the  bandages]  Rend  me,  hiccough!     Off 

with  you,  rag!    And  let  each  spring 
Burst  forth  with  a  bubble  as  large  as  the  eye-ball  of  a 

horse ! 
Creatures  who  revel  in  omnipotence,  behold  me,  lying 

in  this  cursed  place,  a  wretched  man  pouring  forth 

streams  of  blood! 

Ah !  ah !    Sparks  of  fire,  the  tide  of  battle ! 
And  the  treating  warrior,  like  a  tower,  the  shaggy 

horse  with  hands  of  horn !    Ah !  ah ! 
Charge !     Forward !     Forward ! 
— Redness,  hole,  mouth,  gullet  of  glory,  insupportable 

gate !    O  you  mighty  Beings, 

150 


ACT  III 

Let  them  cut  off  my  hands  and  my  feet,  and  to  you  I 

will  stretch  the  stumps,  and  on  my  bones 
I  will  march  to  you !    To  you ! 
FIRST  CAPTAIN  :     What  a  sight  to  see ! 
SECOND  :     Hold  his  feet,  wipe  the  foam  from  his  mouth. 
THIRD:     Horror!     More  than  horror!     Spectacle 
Lamentable,    detestable,   terrible,   pitiable!      And  we 

have 
Two  eyes  to  see  this,  stupidly  ranged  about  him,  like 

cattle  that  gather  around  a  watering-place! 
THE  CENTURION:     Calm  yourself,  O  King! 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER:     How  the  blood  jets  out  of 

him! 
How  the  mare  shakes  her  mane  in  the  breeze !    What 

life 
Like  that  of  a  tiger  is  taken  in  his  bones!     How  he 

roars,  how  he 
Writhes,  smearing  the  altar  with  blood,  till  it  trickles 

down  in  rills, 
And  all  about  him  the  earth  drinks. 

( The  KING  calms  himself. 
FIRST  CAPTAIN   (to  another  who  has  turned  his  head 

towards  the  West)  : 
— What  is  it  that  you  see? 

SECOND  CAPTAIN:     What  a  conflagration  flares  in  the 
sky! 

(All  turn  their  eyes  towards  the  West. 
THIRD  CAPTAIN  :     A  street 

Is  opened  through  the  stony  breast  of  the  earth. 

And  the  wall  is  so  high  that  the  trees  that  cling  there 

appear  like  tufts  of  laurel. 

And  here  and  there,  detaching  themselves   from  the 
ancient  rock,  the  forms  of  monsters  watch  on  the 


TfiTE-D'OR 

cornices,   and  what  might  be  the  ruins  of  bygone 
cities. 
And  the  Sun  stands  at  the  end  in  his  magnificence  and  in 

a  dreadful  splendor. 
Everything  is  full  of  gold  and  we  stand  confronting  a 

blinding  glory. 

THE  KING:     He  founders!    He  founders!    He  falls! 
He  sinks  towards  the  nether  abyss. 
It  is  not  the  Sun,  it  is  the  dreadfully  flaming  citadel  of 

our  hope ! 
And  man  will  not  make  a  higher  ascent  lest  together 

his  path  and  he  plunge  headlong ! 

You,  springs,  tomb  of  the  forests  where  I  have  lived 
so  long,  branches  charged  with  malediction,  paths, 
deep-sunken  roads, 
See  what  injustice  I  suffer! 

To-day  I  try  in  vain  to  escape  from  an  innocent  sepul- 
chre! 

And  you,  like  an  everlasting  face, 
Infinite  riches  of  the  year,  world  abounding  in  fruits, 
I  shall  not  possess  you,  crowned  like  the  mother  of 

Zeus! 

And  I  shall  not  kiss  you  like  a  King,  O  Peace ! 
King  not  by  chance  but  by  force  and  truth, 
O  earth!     O  earth  that  I  cannot  conquer! 

(He  throws  himself  on  the  ground. 

( They  raise  him  and  replace  him  on  the  rock. 

(Confused  clamor  below. 

A  CAPTAIN  (leaning  over  the  precipice}  :     It  is  the  army 

returning. 
ANOTHER:     They  draw  themselves  up  at  the  foot  of  this 

precipice. 
THE  CENTURION:     Is  he  still  alive? 

152 


ACT  III 

THE  SURGEON:     He  lives.     I  cannot  understand  how. 
FIRST  CAPTAIN :     Let  us  go!     What  do  we  still  await? 

( The  CENTURION  raises  his  hand. 
SECOND  CAPTAIN  :     He  is  coming  to  himself.    His  eyes 

re-open. 

THE  CENTURION:     Sire,  how  is  it  with  you? 
THE  KING:     How  long  has  it  been 
Since  I 
Was  living? 

FIRST  CAPTAIN  :     You  were  unconscious  some  minutes. 
THE  KING:     Death  has  surrendered  me.   Some  minutes? 
THE  FIRST  CAPTAIN:     Yes. 
THE  KING:     I  lay  there  during  centuries  of  matter.    A 

slumber — 

SECOND  CAPTAIN:     What  does  he  say? 
THIRD:     He  speaks  of  slumber. 
THE  KING  :     — A  slumber  vile,  inert,  constraining.     A 

detestable  oblivion.    There  only  the  soul  exists. 
I  have  touched  the  bottom  and  now  like  a  diver  I  rise 

again. 

I  have  lived. 
Ah! 

Who  would  try  to  make  me  believe 
That  I  have  been  different  from  other  men? 
A  man  of  fantastic  dreams! 
No !     For  I  have  been  a  man  of  strong  desires. 
— What  could  I  do  ?    Reply ! 
I  have  striven  with  agony.    In  what  have  I  fallen  short 

of  what  I  might  have  done  ?    All,  all  failed ! 
And  I  remained  alone  and  I  did  not  despair,  but  still 

believed. 

And  I  die.     But  the  royal  sign 
Shall  not  be  effaced  from  my  brow. 

153 


TfrTE-D'OR 

FIRST  CAPTAIN  :     Yes,  Tete-d'or. 
THE  KING:     If  I  have  been  impure  in  anything, 
I  ask  for  pardon.    My  desire 
Has  been  for  mighty  things. 

— If  you  love  me,  do  not  let  me  succumb  to  this  hor- 
rible feebleness!     Ah! 
Ah!     Things  not  attained! 
Cut   me    to    pieces !      Wrench   my   limbs    from   their 

sockets ! 
Dismember  me  and  fix  my  quarters  above  the  gates  of 

cities, 

That  cowards  may  be  shamed  and  infants  in  the  wombs 
of  their  mothers  may  be  given  ferocious  souls ! 

(Clamor  below. 
THE  CENTURION  :     O  King,  your  army  is  there  drawn 

up  in  the  depths  below, 
And  they  call  us,  pressing  against  the  base  of  the  cliff, 

for  they  think  that  you  are  dead. 
THE  KING:     Certainly  I  am  dead. 

Throw  them  my  clothes !     Throw  them  the  spoils  of 

my  body ! 
For  I  strip  myself  since  they  have  abandoned  me.    And 

to  them  revert  the  effects  of  the  deceased. 
Throw  them  the  standard  also.     All  the  sky  is  my 
standard ! 

( They  kneel  all  around  him. 
THE  CENTURION  :     O  King,  pardon  us ! 
FIRST  CAPTAIN :     Pardon  us,  O  King!    And  do  not  keep 

your  anger  against  us,  but  pardon ! 
SECOND:     Pardon  us. 
THE   KING    (stretching  out  his   hand}  :     Farewell,   my 

friends ! 
THE  CENTURION  :     Farewell,  King  of  men ! 

154 


ACT  III 

Let  me  kiss  you,  royal  hand !    O  fist  more  precious  than 

a  draught  of  water! 
THE  KING  :     Farewell  to  you !    Men,  farewell ! 

Gestures,  the  sound  of  steps  in  withered  leaves,  stum- 
bled phrases 
Repeated  with  an  idiot's  stubborn  fury,  a  confusion  of 

faces  and  words.     All  this  for  a  moment. 
And  yet  with  attentive  ears  they  hearken  to  the  rustle 

of  laurel  leaves  or,  with  wide  eyes  regarding  the  holy 

redness, 

Of  the  evening  of  the  seasons,  they  wish  to  be  content. 
As  for  me  I  have  made  you  rise  from  your  idleness, 
And  I  have  summoned  you  out  of  the  shade  in  which 

you  sat, 
And  I  brought  you  an  order,  and  this  is  the  order  I 

gave  you,  I  commanded  you  to  go  forth ! 
Neither  the  world  nor  the  multitude  of  men  has  pre- 
vailed against  us. 
And  I  led  you  up  to  this  empty  space.     For  here  is  the 

place  where  it  has  been  ordained  that  I  should  die. 
Then  leave  me  now.     Farewell  to  you,  my  comrades  I 
I  will  die  alone ! 
A  CAPTAIN  :     Alas ! 
THE  KING:     Why,  alas?     Farewell,  my  comrades.     It 

was  destined  that  this  should  be. 
Farewell,  I  love  you  all. 
What  place  is  this,  Centurion? 
THE  CENTURION  :     It  is  the  upper  pass.     More  rugged 

and  difficult  than  the  lower. 
THE  KING  :     Destroy  the  roads !     Block  the  approaches 

with  stones  and  the  trunks  of  trees 
That  men  may  not  trouble  me :  for  I  do  not  wish  to  go 

down  into  the  earth  again. 

155 


TfiTE-D'OR 

This  will  suffice.     Do  not  lament.     And  do  not  order 

my  army  to  display  some  emphatic  sign  of  grief. 
Go,  nor  look  behind. 

The  matter  is  between  myself  and  oblivion. 
— I  see  above  me  the  air  that  envelops  all,  and  these 

gigantic  trees, 
Like  half-burned  piles  in  the  rivers  of  air,  thrusting  up 

devastated  boughs 

To  the  silent  call  of  this  wall  of  conflagration, 
Giving  back,  as  they  sway  together,  a  muffled  bleating. 
Here  I  lie  to  rot,  to  lose  my  face  like  a  veil, 
Grinning    at    the    moon    through    knots    of    crawling 

worms. 
THE  STANDARD  BEARER:     Do  you  think  that  man,  being 

dead,  is  born  again? 

THE  KING:     I  do  not  believe  in  the  fables  of  old  women; 
Nor  that  the  sooth-sayer,  urging  on  his  plough,  sees 

Tagus  sprout  from  the  furrow; 
Nor  that  there  exists  in  this  temple  of  the  world 
Any  god  other  than  ignorant  man, 
Nor  that  this  child  of  the  woman, 
When  he  has  rendered  up  his  mortal  form, 
Shall  be  born  again  from  the  womb  of  Isis. 
A  CAPTAIN:     What  did  you  say? 
THE  KING:     Here  I  swear  it  to  you  and  call  the  black 

Night  to  witness  .  .   . 
Nothing.     It  is  a  matter  of  no  importance.     I  care  but 

little  about  that  Afterwards 

Which  makes  up  all  the  song  .   .  .   one  single  word. 
And  in  truth  I  should  also  care  but  little  about  what 

comes  Before!     And  yet 
I  can  say  that  unsatisfied  I  go  from  the  theatre.     I  die 

and  I  am  living! 

156 


ACT  III 

— But  for  the  strongest  bulls  this  life  is  naught  but  a 
dandelion  in  the  wind! 

Why  should  we  wish  to  fortify  our  eyes 

Against  the  continual  fatigue  of  sleep 

— Yet — Listen  to  me  ! — while  you  live — 
A  CAPTAIN:     We  are  listening. 

THE  KING:     Listen  to  these  last  words  that  I  can  say! 
And  first 

I  desire  for  you  a  soaring  mind,  a  courage  with  shoes 
of  fire, 

As  the  young  man  chafes  with  impatience  at  the  prison- 
ing walls  of  his  home 

When  he  has  put  on  his  boots,  and  dashing  out,  skims 
over  the  mud  as  if  he  were  on  wings ! 

I  bid  you  beware  of  compromise  and  of  altering  your- 
selves, 

But  keep  your  heart  immovable  like  a  millstone,  like 
the  holy  bonds  of  your  inheritance ! 

Take  a  resolution  and  steadfastly  follow  it!  Tread 
everything  under  your  feet,  your  wife  and  your 
house  and  yourself,  as  you  would  tread  on  a  gar- 
ment. Beware  of  any  change !  For  aside  from 
yourself  what  is  there,  can  you  tell  me?  And  you 
yourself  are  something. — Lay  your  foundations 
there. 

Of  yourselves  alone  are  you  surely  masters.  Beware 
of  being  dispossessed. 

And  I, 

I  have  believed  myself  a  power  more  than  human,  an 
elemental  force !  I  have  appeared  in  the  midst  of 
your  monotonous  week. 

I  can  speak  no  longer.  God!  I  die  anew.  Shall  I 
reappear  again? 

157 


T£TE-D'OR 

Farewell ! 

I  have  come  to  the  furthest  verge  of  life,  and  now  once 
more 

I  sink  in  a  sea  of  shadows. 

(He  faints. 

THE   STANDARD   BEARER:     Reverently  wipe   the   foam 
from  his  lips ! 

We  must  go  and  leave  him  alone !  Let  him  repose  in 
his  place;  Tete-d'or, 

Who,  never  knowing  human  incertitude,  held  to  his  one 

inextinguishable  desire,  is  now  no  more. 
FIRST  CAPTAIN:     The   future  is  only  a  landscape   re- 
flected in  the  water,  the  past  is  of  less  account  than 
a  beechnut  and  the  present  is  nothing  at  all. 
THE  MASTER  OF  THE  CAVALRY  :     See,  it  is  time  for  us  to 
return,  for  yonder  beyond  the  mountain, 

Leaving  a  road  piled  high  with  sorrow,  the  sun  is  en- 
gulfed in  mist ! 

It  is  the  moment  when  in  summer  at  the  time  when 
cherries  are  ripe  and  the  air  is  filled  with  a  universal 
song 

And  the  children  bathe  above  the  mills  and  naked  eat 
their  lunches,  while  a  blanched  half-moon  is  sus- 
pended in  the  sky; 

Trees,  waters,  the  borders  of  ditches,  the  expanse  of 
ripening  fields  flame  beneath  the  mysterious  splendor 
of  the  hour  of  Saturn. 

— Now  that  it  is  Autumn  perhaps  some  old  woman  at 
home,  mother  or  servant-maid, 

Thinks  of  us  as  she  gathers  in  the  washing  from  the 
line  or  sits  in  the  courtyard  working  at  her  sewing. 

The  air  still  sweet  grows  fresher;  the  towering  walnut 
trees 

158 


ACT  III 

Cover  the  church  with  shade  and  the  rooks  are  drows- 
ing upon  the  cross ! 

THE   CENTURION:     A  gorgonian  lamentation  fills  the 
mountains  and  the  valleys, 

The  Bear  of  night  has  seized  the  sun  between  his  paws 

And  the  spacious  forests  of  oaks  and  pines  have  shud- 
dered at  the  sight. 

Birds,  that  pass  in  the  desert  day,  flee  more  swiftly,  far 
away,  wild  geese  and  herons ! 

And  bearing  this  news 

Arrest  with  a  long  and  piercing  cry  the  traveller  on  his 
road,  so  that  he  says  to  himself,  "What  has  it  seen?" 

"Whence  does  it  come?  What  does  it  mean,  this 
mournful  cry  in  the  distance?" 

What  furnace  fires  these  cantons  of  gold?  What  chase 
leads  the  wind  in  the  desert  and  the  country  of  in- 
finite trees?  What  lament  is  this  that  rises? 

Certainly  someone  great  is  going  to  die  and  that  is 
why  the  wind  is  raised, 

That  it  may  bear  away  the  flame  of  his  soul,  and  that 
the  oak  may  be  shaken  to  its  base. 

It  is  Nature  who  demands  that  she  should  receive  again 
her  illustrious  child! 

She  has  lent  him  to  us  long  enough  to  perform  the  task 
ordained, 

And  now  she  takes  him  back  again,  the  cycle  being 
completed. 

And  we,  insensible  and  stupid, 

We  have  let  him  slip  from  our  hands  like  flashing  gold 
that  falls  and  sinks  in  the  stream ! 

— O  days  sublime  ! 

( They  all  go  out  at  the  back,  except  one  of  the 
captains  who  goes  in  another  direction. 

159 


T£TE-D'OR 

(Silence.     Then  rolling  of  funeral  drums  below. 
THE  PRINCESS:     No!    No! 

I  do  not  wish  to  re-open  my  eyes ! 

Ah!  ah!    I  suffer!    Ho!  ho! 

I  am  alive — 

Rending  pain  pierces  me  ! 

I  am  still  alive ! 

(She  opens  her  eyes  and  tries  to  walk  and  lower 

her  arms. 
Ah! 
— O 
God!— 

0  hands !     O,  O  arms !     I  am  fastened  here  by  the 
hands ! 

And  racked,  I  fell  into  a  dream,  unhappy  girl  that  I 
am! 

1  see  again !    The  troubled  day  brings  the  arduous  end 

of  life. 
How  long  must  I  remain  here?    The  day  draws  to  its 

end. 

— Who  is  there?    What  man  is  that? 
Ah !    It  is  he !    Yes, 

He  of  whom  they  spoke  when  the  violence 
Of  the  pain  made  me  swoon  towards  death. — Dead! 
O  Tete-d'or ! 
You  are  dead  before  me  and  soon  I  shall  follow  you. 

(  The  KING  stirs  and  sighs. 
He  is  not  dead. 
THE  KING  :     Ah ! 

THE  PRINCESS:     His  soul  returns  to  him.    He  has  been 
wounded  in  some  combat.    He  is  covered  with  blood. 
But  why  have  they  left  him  thus  dishevelled  and  un- 
cleansed? 

1 60 


ACT  III 

THE  KING:    Ah! 

THE  PRINCESS:     I  will  not  speak.     Thus  do  we  die 

together ! 

(She  sobs.)     But  truly  this  pain  is  unbearable! 
My  God! 
My  bones !     My  arms !    Ah !  ah ! 

(She  utters  a  sharp  cry. 

THE  KING:     What  cry  is  that ?    Who  is  there? 
THE  PRINCESS:     He  heard  me.    What  have  I  done? 
THE  KING:     Someone  uttered  a  cry.     Is  there  anyone 
here? 

(Silence. 

THE  PRINCESS  (in  a  very  low  voice) :     It  is  I. 
THE  KING:     Is  there  anyone  here?     I  seem  to  hear  a 

voice  that  says,  "It  is  I." 
THE  PRINCESS  (more  loudly)  :     It  is  I. 
THE  KING  :     Who  are  you  ? 
THE  PRINCESS  :     I  am  the  one  to  whom  you  gave  your 

bread 

This  morning,  and  your  mantle  also. 
THE  KING:     This  morning?    So  now  you  speak?    You 

speak  my  language? 

Yet  that  cry  that  I  heard  ...  I  know  that  voice. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     The  Queen. 

(Silence. 
THE  KING:     You  are  not  that  till  I  am  dead. 

Are  you  glad  to  see  me? 
THE  PRINCESS:     Yes,  I  am  content. 
THE  KING:     What  did  you  say?    Draw  nearer.    I  have 
robbed  you  of  everything.     Come  and  avenge  your- 
self upon  my  body  with  the  malice  only  known  by 
women  who  hate.     (He  laughs.) 
161 


T£TE-D'OR 

THE  PRINCESS  :     Are  you  wounded 

Mortally? 
THE  KING:    Yes. 

THE  PRINCESS  :     I  cannot  come  to  you. 
THE  KING  :     Why  not  ? 

THE  PRINCESS  :     I  am  fastened  by  the  hands. 
THE  KING:     What  did  you  say? 
THE  PRINCESS:     When  you  usurped  my  father's  place 
And  had  me  driven  away, 
I  became  a  wanderer, 
And  no  one  wished  to  take  me  in  for  they  were  afraid 

of  you. 
And  at  last  I  found  a  refuge  in  the  mountains,  among 

the  trees  and  shrubs, 

And  savage  animals,  far  from  the  eyes  of  men. 
And    this    morning    after    you    had    given    me    your 

bread  .  .  . 

— And  so  you  did  not  recognise  me? 
THE  KING:     No. 
THE  PRINCESS:     Am  I  so  changed?     I  know  that  my 

beauty  is  gone. 
—  ...  A  man  threw  himself  upon  me  and  took  it 

from  me, 
— And  that  did  not  satisfy  his  evil  soul.     But  he  has, 

ah!  ah! 

THE  KING:     Well? 

THE  PRINCESS:     .  .  .  By  the  hands,  ah ! 
THE  KING:    Well? 

THE  PRINCESS  :     He  has  nailed  me  to  a  tree. 
I  have  been  here  many  hours. 
Why  I  die,  I  do  not  know. 
But  as  for  you,  I  have  called  to  you 
To  tell  you  that  you  die  justly, 

162 


ACT  III 

Because  I  ought  to  be  the  Queen  and  you  ought  not  to 

be  the  King. 

And  to-day  we  are  both  dying  in  the  same  place. 
THE  KING:     You  are  nailed  by  the  hands ! 
THE  PRINCESS:     Yes.    What  is  that  to  you? 

I  am  weak.     I  shall  be  the  first  to  die. 
THE  KING:     How  is  it  you  have  not  been  seen? 
THE  PRINCESS  :     I  am  fastened  to  a  pine 

Whose  branches  make   a   roof  that   descends   to   the 

ground  in  front  of  me. 
THE  KING:     Where  is  this  tree? 
THE  PRINCESS  :     I  am  just  behind  you. 
THE  KING  :     Now 

When  it  is  more  difficult  to  stir  one  foot  than  the  whole 

mass  of  an  empire 
I  must  rise 
From  the  lazy  bed  of  death. 

(He  struggles  to  his  feet  and  walks  toward  her, 

reeling. 

THE  PRINCESS:     What  are  you  doing? 
THE  KING:     This  way? 
THE  PRINCESS:     Leave    me!      What    are    you    doing? 

Why  do  you  come? 
THE  KING:     Is  it  you  that  I  hold?    I  can  no  longer  see 

distinctly.    Let  me 
Lean  upon  you  till  I  can  get  my  breath.     I  can  do  no 

more! 
I  need  your  help  to  keep  myself  on  my  feet. 

(Pause. 

Where  are  your  hands? 
THE  PRINCESS:     What  can  you  do? 
THE  KING  :     Where  are  your  hands  ?     I  tell  you  that 
now  I  cannot  see  distinctly. 
163 


T£TE-D'OR 

Quickly,  before  I  fall. 

I  feel  your  hair.    Your  arms  are  here. 

I  cannot  raise  my  arms.     My  hands  are  dead 

Like  those  of  a  man  who  has  stayed  too  long  in  cold 

water. 

But  there  is  still  strength  in  my  head.  My  teeth  shall 
serve  for  pincers. 

(He  pulls  the  nail  out  of  the  left  hand. 
One  hand — the  other. 

(He  pulls  out  the  other  nail. 
Ah! 

(He  reels  violently. 

THE  PRINCESS  :     You  are  falling !    Take  care ! 
THE  KING:     I  plunge  my  thighs  in  the  void!     Death 

shakes  me  violently! 
I  am  falling!     I  am  falling! 

Do  not  forget  that  I  have  drawn  out  the  nails  from 
your  hands. 

(He  falls  before  her. 
( The  PRINCESS  sways  and  falls  to  her  knees 

and  remains  crouching  beside  him. 

THE  PRINCESS  :    It  is  not  just  that  he  should  die  stretched 
on  the  ground  here.     I  must  carry  him  back. 

(She  tries  to  raise  him. 
How  heavy  he  is !    I  cannot  do  it !    And  yet  it  must  be 

done! 

With  these  maimed  hands,  these  arms  that  are  weaker 
than  tendrils  of  ivy,  this  body  that  cannot  even  sup- 
port its  own  weight. 

(She  carries  him  with  difficulty  to  the  funeral 

bier  where  she  replaces  him. 

I  have  done  it!     I  have  rivalled  the  black  ant  that 
drags  a  burden  greater  than  itself. 
164 


ACT  III 

(She  puts  her  ear  to  the  breast  of  the  KING. 
But  who  would  have  believed 
That  he  could  still  be  alive !     I  hear  the  beating  of  his 

heart. 

Here  I  will  wait  until  it  is  silent 
Or  until  mine  has  stopped. 
— No.    He  awakes. 
THE  KING  (he  looks  at  her  with  friendly  eyes}  :     Behold 

the  courage  of  the  wounded,  the  strength  that  sus- 
tains the  weak, 
The  fellowship  of  the  dying.    She  could  carry  me  here 

with  these  bleeding  and  dislocated  hands. 
Through  this  same  meek  courage  with  which  you  have 

dragged  me  here,  through  this  na'ive  endurance, 
The  woman  in  her  sphere  is  the  image  of  an  inspired 

resignation,  teaching  good  will  to  men, 
As  formerly,  servant  of  the  house,  she  became  servant 

of  God. 
And  it  is  you 
Who  join  me  once  more  in  this  place  where  I  must 

perish! 

Do  not  be  ashamed  because  you  see  me  naked. 
It  is  needful  at  times  that  the  woman,  wife  or  nurse, 
Should  contemplate  man  in  his  virility. 
Consider   it!      I   was   man!      And   through   me    the 

strength  of  the  man  has  satisfied  his  will, 
And   suddenly   I    have    been   broken!      I    have   been 

thrown,  like  carrion,  under  the  shadow  of  a  tree ! 
Those  others,  I  did  not  wish  to  have  them  see  me  die. 

But  we  cannot  hide  ourselves 
From  the  eyes  of  the  woman  who  bears  us  children. 

Stay,  if  this  pleases  you, 
165 


TfiTE-D'OR 

My  enemy!     What  do  you  say?     Do  you  think  that 

our  obstinate  souls 
Do  not  wish  to  keep  their  grievance? 
Mine  still  preserves  a  savor  of  ancient  rancour  against 

n  y°U' 

For  you  come  of  a  race  of  enemies. — And  yet 

I  thank  you. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     I  do  not  wish 

To  have  you  thank  me. 
THE  KING   (scrutinising  her]  :     Your  face  is  beautiful 

and  in  itself  sets  forth  your  sovereignty. 
— You  hate  me  with  reason.    For  it  seems 
That  we  must  hate  those  who  have  done  us  wrong. 

And  you 

Have  much  to  lay  at  my  door.    Avenge  yourself 
On  these  pitiable  remains ! 
But  I  beg  you  to  do  one  of  two  things, 
Either  kill  me,  if  such  is  your  will,  upon  the  instant, 
Or  let  me  die  and  do  not  trouble  me  with  your  impor- 
tunate cries. 

It  is  the  moment  in  which  I  would  meditate  alone. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     I  do  not  hate  you. 
THE  KING:     I  am  glad.     Farewell,  young  girl. 

(He  smiles  at  her. 
(Pause. 
THE  PRINCESS:     O  Tete-d'or! 

I  do  not  regret  that  you  killed  my  father ! 

How  happy  I  am !    It  is  you 

Who  took  my  royal  throne,   and  it  is  through  your 

doing 

That  I  have  walked  the  roads  with  weary  feet,  in 
shame  and  poverty,  despised,  insulted,  denied,  and 
that  I  have  come  to  this  place  and  that  I  die ! 
1 66 


ACT  III 

And  I  could  wish  that  it  had  been  you 

Who  nailed  me  to  that  tree, 

And  I  would  have  closed  my  eyes  to  feel  the  better, 

And  loving  you  I  would  have  died  in  silence. 

My  very  dear !    O  my  most  precious  one ! 

You  see,  this  injury  that  you  did  me  was  not  in  vain. 
I  die  indeed  like  you !  This  last,  this  lingering  suf- 
fering has  frozen  me  to  death. 

O  let  me  be  like  the  gathered  flower  that  smells  the 
sweeter,  and  like  the  new-mown  grass! 

0  I  am  happy  to  think  that  there  is  not  one  of  my  many 
sufferings  but  had  its  source  in  you, 

And  that  now  I  can  breathe  them  back  to  you,  like  a 

perfume,  O  my  master ! 

THE  KING:     O  Pity  with  hands  transpierced  I 
Sweet  as  the  last  of  the  sun! 
Happy  is  he  who  can  take  this  rapture  in  his  arms  and 

kiss  it  on  the  softness  of  its  cheek! 

1  am  overjoyed  to  see  you,  Benediction! 
As  the  supreme  sun 

Dyes  golden  the  saliva  on  the  lips  and  the  tears  in  the 

eyes  and  the  dew  in  its  rose-leaf  cradle, 
And  makes  a  multitude  happy  in  the  mist  .   .   . 
I  do  not  see  clearly!     Listen  to  what  I  have  to  say  to 

you. 

Death  presses  me! 

THE  PRINCESS  :     Do  not  die  yet,  I  beg  of  you ! 
THE  KING:     Death  is  nothing;  but  here,  here  is  the  final 

throe  I 

On  what  a  breast  do  you  lay  your  head,  Compassion ! 
The  vintage  is  wholly  trodden,  and  from  my  wounds 

there  oozes  only  water. 

I  did  not  wish  to  weep,  but  to  arise  and  walk. 

167 


TfrTE-D'OR 

But  man  goes  only  forward  and  he  must  halt  at  last. 
And  from  his  eyes  gush  forth  the  waters 
Of  that  sea  whose  tide  is  the  same  for  every  breast. 
It  has  been  given  to  you  to  charm  all  hearts,  august 

shoot  of  the  cedar! 

THE  PRINCESS  :     I  give  you  all  that  I  have. 
THE  KING:     And  I  also  was  not  destitute  of  glory. 

Ha!  ha! 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Do  not  laugh  thus  with  that  contorted 

mouth ! 
THE  KING:     Shadows!     Shadows! 

Call  back  the  army  that  I  may  solemnly  address  them, 
Call  back  the  army  that  I  may  explain  to  them  every- 
thing, having  woefully  arisen. 
Shadows  on  every  man ! 
Wretched  men,  most  wretched  among  you  all  is  the 

person  of  the  King  that  lies  here. 
O  earth,  receive  my  body!     O  death,  accept  my  mys- 
terious soul! 

THE  PRINCESS  :     O  Tete-d'or,  do  not  die  so  desolate ! 
THE  KING:    Ah!    Ah! 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Listen,  my  brother ! 
THE  KING:     Ah! 
THE  PRINCESS  (putting  her  hand  on  his  head}  :     Hush! 

Hush! 

— You  were  able 

To  resurrect  the  ruin  of  your  body, 
And,  in  despite  of  death, 
Incarnate  suffering,  to  make  your  way  to  me,  emerging 

from  the  tomb  like  a  man  that  had  been  flayed ! 
O  sight  to  wring  the  heart, 
That,  royal  both,  we  should  encounter  thus! 
You,  robed  in  blood,  and  I, 

168 


ACT  III 

A  tortured  thing,  transfixed  against  a  tree, 
Sunk  in  a  stupor,  blind,  like  a  wretched  caterpillar  1 
You  have  delivered  me ! 
And  I, 

r  shall  not  permit  you  to  die  in  such  despair. 
No,  do  not  think  that  you  can  do  it ! 
She  will  not  abandon  you,  she  whom  you  have  deliv- 
ered, 
Pressing  your  mouth  against  the  palms  of  her  bleeding 

hands ! 
Behold  you  have  delivered  one  who  is  stronger  than 

yourself ! 

THE  KING:     No,  woman!    You  cannot 
Take  this  life  in  your  hair. 

Live!     Be  queen!     All  that  I  have  I  leave  to  you. 
Mortal  man, 
As  a  traveller  benighted  in  bitter  cold  takes  refuge  in 

the  entrails  of  his  horse, 
Comforts  himself  with  his  woman,  seizing  her  by  the 

breast. 

But  as  for  me,  I  do  not  desire  you. 
Let  me  die  alone ! 
Once  more 

Like  a  flame  there  rolls 
In  my  breast  the  great  desire. 
Ah! 

The  child  of  my  mother 
Has  been  enmeshed  in  a  whirling  fury,  as  his  face  is 

enmeshed  by  the  soft  and  terrestrial  flame  of  his 

hair; 
But  now  I,  a  better  mother,  I  myself  like  a  rigid  son, 

shall  give  birth  to  a  hairy  soul ! 
I  hope !    I  hope !     I  aspire. 

169 


TfiTE-D'OR 

You  cannot  undo  this  tough  soul  with  your  woman's 

nails. 

Again  it  fills  its  iron  harness. 
— Ah !    I  see  again !     Ah !  ah ! 

( The  sun  near  its  setting  fills  all  the  scene  with 
an  immense  redness. 

0  sun !    You,  my 

Only  love !     O  gulf  and  fire  !     O  abyss !     O  blood ! 

O  blood!     O 

Door!    Gold!    Gold!    Absorb  me,  anger ! 
THE  PRINCESS  :     How  his  thirst  upraises  him. 
THE  KING:     I  see. 

— An  odor  of  violets  excites  my  soul  to  undo  it. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Tete-d'or,  think  of  me ! 
THE  KING  :     O  Father, 

Come !     O  Smile,  recline  upon  me. 

As  the  folk  of  the  vintage  before  the  vats 

Go  out  from  the  house  of  the  wine-press  by  all  the 

doors  like  a  torrent, 

My  blood  by  all  these  wounds  goes  out  to  meet  you  in 
triumph. 

1  die.     Who  shall  relate 

That  dying,  arms  outstretched,  I  held  the  sun  on  my 

breast  like  a  wheel? 
O  Prince,  clothed  with  glory, 

Breast  against  breast  you  mingle  yourself  in  my  terres- 
trial blood!     Drink  the  slave! 
O  lion,  you  overwhelm  me !     O  eagle,  you  grasp  me  in 

your  talons ! 
THE  PRINCESS:     He  is  dead.' 

O  body,  you  repose  in  incorruptible  gold. 

(Silence. 
170 


ACT  III  ___ 

I  remember  everything,  the  winter,  the  days  of  feast- 
ing, 

The  people  I  knew,  the  times  of  rejoicing  and  of 
mourning,  the  changes  of  the  weather,  the  countries 
I  have  seen, 

And  my  robes  that  were  kept  in  the  cypress  chest. 
O  Prince !    O  Master !     King  of  men ! 

(Pause. 

(Steps.    Voices  behind  the  scenes. 
(Enter  the  COMMANDER  OF  THE  SECOND  ARMY 

with  other  officers. 
THE  COMMANDER:     Here? 

THE  CAPTAIN  :     Here,  on  this  rock  in  the  middle. 
THE  COMMANDER  :     I  do  not  dare  to  advance.     Mon- 
archy reposes  in  these  shadows. 
THE  CAPTAIN:     He  is  there. 
THE  COMMANDER  (perceiving  the  PRINCESS)  :     But  who 

is  that?    Whom  have  you  left  beside  him? 
THE  CAPTAIN  :     No  one. 
THE  COMMANDER:     No  one?     Yet  yonder  are  hands 

and  the  semblance  of  a  face.    Look. 
AN  OFFICER:     Yes.    There  is  someone  there  beside  the 

bier. 
THE  CAPTAIN  :     It  is  most  astonishing.    I  saw  them  all 

depart  before  I  set  out  myself  to  meet  you. 
THE  COMMANDER  :     Hola !     Is  there  someone  living  in 

the  shade  of  the  trees  and  the  night? 
THE  OFFICER:     No  answer. 
THE  COMMANDER  :     Let  us  advance. 

(Together  they  approach. 
FIRST  OFFICER  :    A  young  girl. 
SECOND  OFFICER  :     And  fainting  or  dead. 
THE  COMMANDER:    Care  for  her.    Find  if  she  lives !  .  .  . 

171 


TfiTE-D'OR 

And  I  for  him 

Lying  here  with  a  face  so  pale.  .  .  . 

(He  puts  his  hand  on  the  breast  of  the  KING. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Ah ! 
FIRST  OFFICER :     Does  she  live? 
SECOND  OFFICER:     Yes.    She  is  coming  to  herself. 
THE  COMMANDER  :     Both  live. 
FIRST  OFFICER  :     What  did  you  say? 
THE  COMMANDER:     A  glimmer  of  life  like  the  fire  in  a 
dying  coal.     The  four  limbs  are  dead;  but  still  the 
heart  stirs  beneath  the  touch  of  the  fingers. 
And  see ! 

SECOND  OFFICER  :     Yes ;  his  lips  are  moving. 
FIRST  OFFICER:     Speak  to  him.    Perhaps  he  will  hear. 

And  if  he  hears  he  may  contrive  to  speak. 
THE  COMMANDER  :     O  King !    I  am  the  head  of  the  sec- 
ond army. 

Have  you  anything  to  say  to  me? 
THE  KING:     Let  her  ...  let  her  .  .  . 
THE  COMMANDER :     Did  you  hear? 
THE  KING  :     Let  her  be  ... 
THE  COMMANDER  :     Let  her  be  .  .  .   ? 
FIRST  OFFICER :     What?    Speak. 
THE  KING:     Qu  .  .  . 

(He  dies. 

THE  COMMANDER :     Peace  to  his  soul! 
THE  SECOND  OFFICER:     He  said  "Queen,"  I  heard  him. 
THE  COMMANDER :     Let  her  be  Queen? 
ANOTHER  OFFICER  (who  supports  the  PRINCESS)  :     Ah! 

A  thing  horrible  and  very  strange ! 
See! 

ANOTHER  :     Her  hands  bleed. 
ANOTHER  :     Pierced  through  and  through ! 

172 


ACT  III 

THE    COMMANDER:     Who   can   she   be?     Let   her   be 
Queen?     Who?     Have  any  of  you  seen  this  wild 
creature  before? 
FIRST  OFFICER:     No. 
SOMEONE  :     I  know 
That  face, 

That  face  in  so  far  as  I  can  see 

In  the  obscurity  of  the  twilight. 

THE  COMMANDER  :     Who  is  she  ? 

(  The  PRINCESS  regains  consciousness. 
THE  MAN  (staring  at  her)  :     I  know  it  ... 

No  longer. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     What  men  are  you  ?    Let  me  go ! 

(She  frees  herself  and  falls. 
SOMEONE:     She  speaks  our  language. 
THE  COMMANDER  :     Lift  her  with  all  respect. 

( They  support  her  in  their  arms. 
Young  girl,  can  you  hear  me? 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Yes. 
THE  COMMANDER:     Who  are  you? 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Why  should  I  hide  it  ?    Your  former 

King  who  was  killed  by  that  man  there  .  .  . 
THE  COMMANDER :     Are  you  his  daughter? 
THE  PRINCESS  :     I  am. 
THE  COMMANDER  :    Tete-d'or 

Commands  that  you  be  Queen. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     He  said  this  to  you  ? 
THE  COMMANDER:     Yes,  with  his  last  breath. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Then  let  it  be  according  to  his  wish. 
THE  COMMANDER  :     What  he  wished,  we  also  wish. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Make  haste !     Clothe  me  again  in  the 

garments  of  a  queen. 
THE  COMMANDER :     What  did  you  say? 

173 


TfiTE-D'OR 

THE  PRINCESS  :     The  coronation  costume.    Put  it  on  me. 

The  crown  and  the  sceptre. 

THE  COMMANDER:     Go  search  for  it,  one  of  you.    The 
royal  treasures  are  packed  among  our  stores. 

(An  Officer  goes  out. 
THE  COMMANDER  (to  the  PRINCESS)  :     I  am  astonished 

to  see  you. 

THE  PRINCESS  :     After  I  had  left  your  country 
I  was  pursued 

Thus  far.  And  here  I  lived. 
But  have  you  never  seen  me 
Before? 

THE  COMMANDER  :     Never. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     You  will  be  faithful  to  me  ? 
THE  COMMANDER  :     Yes,  Queen. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     All  is  well. 

(Enter  many  men  bearing  various  parts  of  the 

coronation  costume. 

THE  PRINCESS:     These  are  the  things  I  asked  for? 
THE  COMMANDER  :     Yes. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     You  must  serve  as  my  maids,  soldiers. 

My  strength  is  gone. 

THE    COMMANDER    (to    another]  :     You,    support    her 
beneath  the  other  arm. 

(They  present  to  her  one  by  one  the  parts  of 

the  coronation  costume. 
FIRST  OFFICER  :     The  long  chemise,  the  Alb. 

( They  put  them  on  her. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     I  saw  him  .  .  . 
THE  COMMANDER:     It  is  true.     At  the  last  moment  of 

his  life. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     One  desire  lived  in  him 


ACT  III 

Still.     Certainly  a  desire  still  burned  in  his  breast. 
— The  robe. 

SECOND  OFFICER:     Here  it  is. 

THE  PRINCESS  :  Hide  me  under  the  costume  of  the 
Queen. 

( They  put  the  robe  on  her. 
THE    PRINCESS:     The    sleeves.       Gently,     gently,    my 

friends !    Ah ! 

Have  patience.     My  arms  are  somewhat  rusty. 
THE  COMMANDER:     O  Queen,  let  me  take  your  foot. 

( They  remove  the  hide  boot  and  put  a  sandal 

in  its  place. 
THIRD  OFFICER:     This  that  you  remove  is  the  shoe  of 

the  exile. 

THE  COMMANDER  :  And  they  place  upon  your  foot  the 
imperial  sandal  with  fastenings  of  gold. 

(  They  do  the  same  for  the  other  foot. 
THE  PRINCESS:     What  is  there  still  to  do?    Throw  the 
mantle  over  my  shoulders.     Quick,  I  am  in  haste  I 
Fasten  this  clasp ! 

And  you,  place  the  crown  on  my  head,  O  paranymph! 
THE  COMMANDER  :     Be  Queen ! 

(He  places  the  crown  on  her  head. 

THE  PRINCESS :  The  sceptre.  ( They  present  it  to  her.} 
How  shall  I  hold  it?  (To  the  COMMANDER.)  See 
this  hand! 

(She  turns  it  painfully  from  side  to  side. 
THE  COMMANDER  :     It  bleeds ! 
THE  PRINCESS:     Poor  hand! 

(She  looks  at  it  with  a  kind  of  smile. 
I  have  been  nailed  .  .  . 
THE  COMMANDER  :     Nailed! 


TkTE-D'OR 

THE  PRINCESS  :     Know  that  I  have  been  nailed  by  the 

hands. 
What  are  they  good  for?     Nailed  like  a  bird  of  the 

night. 

Like  the  tree  that  is  crucified  that  it  may  fructify. 
THE  COMMANDER:     You  have  suffered  a  great  outrage. 
THE  PRINCESS  :     I  cannot  hold  the  golden  sceptre  and 

yet  I  must.     Help  me. 

Clench  my  fist  with  your  hand  that  I  may  hold  it  erect. 

(She  grasps  the  sceptre. 
THE  COMMANDER:     Hail  to  you,  Queen! 
ALL:     Hail! 

THE  PRINCESS  :     Indeed  there  still  is  dimly  visible 
Through  thickening  veils  of  murky  air 
The  procurator  of  royalty, 
The  ruler  of  men,  the  bell-wether  of  the  tribe. 
I,  woman,  covered  with  this  sumptuous  apparel ! 
Nothing  is  lacking.    The  crown  is  on  my  head, 
And  the  pompous  train  of  the  mantle  sweeps  the  earth 

at  my  feet. 

THE  COMMANDER  :     Queen  .  .  . 
THE  PRINCESS  :     Dust  and  ashes ! 

Why  was  I  born  what  I  am  ?    It  is  only  I. 

I  am  the  sovereign  of  a  season  that  is  ending. 

Who  calls  me  queen,  unless  it  be  the  queen  of  things 

that  exist  no  more, 
Or  of  the  leaves  in  the  instant  that  they  swim  in  the 

dusty  air? 
Already  the  mist  submerges  the  valleys  and,  through 

the  fog, 
The  Moon  shines  forth,  like  a  beckoning  finger  with 

sharply  pointed  nail. 
Lead  me  .  .  . 

176 


ACT  III 

THE  COMMANDER  :     Where  ? 

THE  PRINCESS  :     To  your  testator,  there. 

(She  approaches  the  body  of  the  KING. 

0  dead  body,  do  not  refuse  this  present  that  I  bring 
you. 

It  is  to  you  that  I  speak,  body! 

That  austere  spirit 

Who  inhabited  you  is  now  as  far  removed 

From  you  as  from  me. 

— Oh,  that  I  had  been  dowered  with  that  soul !     Here, 

all  ungrateful  more  vainly  than  the  urn  of  Aquarius 

empties  itself  .  .  . 
— But  you ! 
This  is  ineffable. 

It  is  to  you  that  I  make  this  last  offering,  beloved  dead. 
— Help  me  to  lower  myself. 

(She  painfully  sinks  to  her  knees  and  kisses  him 

on  the  lips,  then  rises. 
You  tremble,  my  heart? 

1  was  born  that  I  might  live.    And  I  die  that  I  may  .  .  . 

(She  dies. 

FIRST  OFFICER:     The  Queen  is  dead. 
SECOND  OFFICER:     How  her  head  suddenly   drooped 

beneath  the  crown! 

THE  COMMANDER  :     O  Queen !    O  Empress  still  warm ! 
THIRD  OFFICER  :     Her  golden  shoes  have  made 
Only  a  rustling  in  the  bed  of  leaves. 

(Pause.  The  COMMANDER  gently  and  respect- 
fully lays  the  body  of  the  Queen  on  the 
ground. 

THE  COMMANDER :     Three  dead  Kings!     Events  most 
strange ! 

177 


TfiTE-D'OR 

The   laws    of   custom   broken,    human   weakness    sur- 
mounted, the  obstacle  of  circumstances 

Dissipated.    And  our  effort,  reaching  a  vain  conclusion, 

Undoes  itself  like  a  fold. 

Place  the  queen  on  a  shield,  clad  in  her  royal  robes. 
We  will  bear  her  with  us. 

We   must    descend.      The   West,    behind   the    shaggy 
boughs  of  sombre  pines, 

Grows  pale,  and  Memnon  cries  in  the  mist ! 

Thus  a  hundred  times  before  us 

Hyperion  will  disappear  in  the  clouds 

Before  our  rear-most  legion  will  see  its  flaming  buckler 
sink  in  the  blackness  of  the  sea. 

(  They  raise  the  body. 

Exalt  these  shining  feet  which  thus  adorned  to  tread 
the  earth  no  more  shall  retraverse 

The  people. 

As  for  us,  we  understand  how  not  to  be  afraid! 

And  if  attacked  we  will  show 

Gums  that  are  formidable  yet. 

(Retreat,  scarcely  perceptible  in  the  distance. 

Come !    Those  who  go  before  us  already  are  far  away. 

Forward !    Home !    To  the  West ! 

( They  all  go  out. 

FINIS. 


178 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


A     000  547  295     6 


